


Something Just Like This

by slf630



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Wakanda (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16700893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slf630/pseuds/slf630
Summary: Steve visits Bucky in Wakanda after they bring him back out of cryostatis.OrAnother take on how Steve's first trip to Wakanda to see Bucky could have went.





	Something Just Like This

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having a lot of fun digging into the Captain America fandom and trying to get into both Steve and Bucky's heads. Hopefully I've done a decent enough job. All of this is based on the fact that the Russo brothers confirmed that Steve totally visited Bucky and spent some time hiding out in Wakanda.
> 
> Title from the song Something Just Like This by Coldplay and The Chainsmokers (quite a fitting song, if you ask me.)

It only takes a few short seconds for Bucky to realize that the ever-present sound of children’s laughter has fallen silent. Even the animals are quiet. It sends a cold shiver down his spine, the years, _decades_ , spent as The Winter Soldier leaving him paranoid and on edge. Granted, Shuri was able to successfully deprogram him – as far as they know, anyway; she seemed sure but Bucky can’t help but wonder, worry, if maybe he’s beyond fixing – and he’s technically no longer _him_ – T’Challa even gave him a new name to fit with his new life, The White Wolf – but all that training is still there. He’s only been awake a few days, he hopes that as he gets more settled, as things become less hazy, maybe he won’t always feel like he has to be so hyper-aware of everything.  
  
He moves silently across his hut, leans against the wall next to the door, listens closely. He hears T’Challa’s rich but quiet tone, can’t _exactly_ make out what he’s saying, but Bucky can definitely tell that he’s talking to someone.  
  
“Thanks again, Your Highness.” Bucky closes his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. _Steve_.   
  
“Of course, Captain Rogers.”  
  
In the few days that he’s been awake, when he’s not with Shuri, working on his head or his arm, he has done nothing but think about Steve. There are still some holes where he knows memories should be – Shuri also assured him that would get better with time as well – but the events that lead them, _him_ , here are crystal clear despite all the messing around with his brain. That same guilt that he felt on the quinjet on the way to Siberia kicks in and his throat tightens up, his body frozen. He’s only ever been paralyzed like this once before – when he couldn’t finish his mission to kill Steve – isn’t used to his body not doing what he wants it to. For so long, his body was his weapon, a tool used to complete his mission. Just figures that both times it happens it’s because of Steve.   
  
He hears T’Challa say goodbye to Steve, knows that any second now he’s going to be face to face with him. He isn’t ready. Honestly, he didn’t think Steve would show up here. Not knowing why he is, not knowing whether he’s going to be facing off against Steve or Captain America and The Avengers – either option is equally unpleasant to think about at the moment – has him even more on edge.   
  
Bucky grits his teeth and _forces_ his body to move. If this is going to happen, he’ll make it happen on his terms as much as he’s able. He pushes aside the curtain hanging at the doorway and steps outside. Steve is standing perfectly still, facing him, in jeans and a t-shirt, no backup visible – but that doesn’t mean that Sam, or even Stark, isn’t going to come flying in at any second.  
  
“Hey, Buck,” Steve says quietly with a smile.  
  
It’s still a little surreal seeing Steve like _that_. He’s fought beside and against this enhanced version of his best friend, is well aware that he isn’t that same stubborn, dumbass kid from Brooklyn anymore. But Bucky can still see him, the old him, in his eyes, the curve of his smile.   
  
It’s only been a few months since Steve brought him here after the fight with Stark but Bucky can clearly see the toll that it’s taken on Steve. He looks tired, harder, darker, guarded, all those same things that Bucky sees in himself every time he can’t avoid a glimpse at his own face. It makes his stomach churn to think that Steve has become _anything_ like him.   
  
Steve’s hair is longer than Bucky’s ever seen him wear and his normally smooth jaw is covered by a beard. The look suits him but it’s just more proof that this is yet another different Steve than the one Bucky grew up with, different even from the Steve he fought beside a few months ago.   
  
The seconds stretch out between them, silent and awkward, the smile slowly fading from Steve’s face. His brow furrows and he takes a few steps closer. Bucky straightens his back, his shoulders flexing – well, at least his right shoulder does, what’s left of the other one just kind of twitches a bit; he’s still not used to his arm being gone – and Steve stops, his hands held out in front of him like he’s trying to calm a spooked animal. “It’s okay.” He pauses, his eyes soft, sad. “It’s me, it’s Steve.”  
  
Bucky’s jaw clenches as he gets hit with a memory, Steve saying those words to him when he rescued him back during the war. Too bad Zola had already started the process of turning him before Steve even got there.   
  
“I know who you are, Steve,” Bucky grits out, still fighting through the memories, trying to push them back. He knows he shouldn’t, that he should just let it happen – he wants to remember, he really does – but now isn’t the best time for it.   
  
Steve lets out a breath and nods, carefully takes a few more steps toward him, his hands still out in front of him. Bucky grunts, his jaw clenching more – hard enough to ache a little – and he stumbles backward. The next thing he knows, Steve is right in front of him, one hand gripping his arm, the other on his waist, sky blue eyes wide, full of concern.  
  
“Bucky?”  
  
“I’m okay,” Bucky rasps. He’s not, not really, but right now he has to be, or at the very least make Steve think he is. The memory of Steve coming for him is still playing over and over in his head, along with the two of them trying to escape, Steve trying to make him leave, hears his own voice screaming ‘No! Not without you!’ Hell, he can even feel the heat of the flames.  
  
“Like hell you are.” Steve’s hand tightens around his arm, unwavering gaze searching Bucky’s face. “Do I need to go get T’Challa? The princess? What d’ya need?”  
  
“I’m fine, Steve,” Bucky insists. Steve isn’t holding him with even a fraction of his strength so it’s easy enough for Bucky to pull away, only not far enough. His back ends up pressed against his hut, Steve still too close to him, close enough that Bucky can smell him, can feel the warmth of his body replacing the remembered heat of the flames. He _can’t_ do this. Steve makes him weak and he can’t be weak right now. Not without knowing what’s going on. And maybe not even then.   
  
“Damnit, Buck,” Steve sighs, brow furrowed, a frown pulling down his lips.   
  
“Why’re you here?” Bucky finally manages to ask. He tries really hard to make it a demand, to keep all the emotions running through him from coming out in his voice, but he fails miserably.  
  
The look on Steve’s face nearly guts Bucky. Things are nowhere near what they used to be between them, they’ve both changed so much, but Bucky can still read every expression on Steve’s face, in the slight slump of his shoulders. “I asked T’Challa to let me know when they woke you up.”  
  
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Bucky points out. He’s still reeling from the memories, the onslaught of emotions that he wasn’t at all prepared for, but he’s starting to get a hold on himself again. If Steve would back up a few feet that would help a lot. But the stubborn punk doesn’t seem like he’s about to do that any time soon.   
  
“Really?” Steve huffs, shaking his head. “Why _wouldn’t_ I come?”  
  
“Why would you?” Bucky shoots back.  
  
“Because it’s you! I wanted to see you.”  
  
There may not be anyone around right now but that could change at any moment and Bucky is overly aware of how exposed they are outside like this. He’s also pretty sure this is going to end up in a fight and he doesn’t want any of the villagers to have to see that. “Are you alone?”   
  
“What?” Steve snaps, brow furrowing deeper. “What the hell kind of question is that?”  
  
“A logical one, considering that more often than not you have at least one team member with you.”  
  
Steve blinks slowly, his lips parted just slightly. “Are you serious right now?” he damn-near whispers.  
  
“Yes, very serious.” Bucky sighs, shifts his shoulder. “Look, this is obviously gonna be a fight and I don’t really wanna do that out here. But I would like to know if I can expect more company if we go inside.”  
  
“It’s just me.”  
  
“No Sam, no Natasha? Maybe Stark?”  
  
“Damnit, no. I said it’s just me and I meant that.” The most heartbreaking look flashes in Steve’s eyes and it makes Bucky’s stomach twist. “You know me better than that, Buck. You know I’d never lie to you.”  
  
There really isn’t a lot that Bucky can say that he knows for sure but the one thing that he _does_ know is that, whichever version of Steve he’s dealing with, he’s always honest. Bucky inhales deeply and nods, reaches out and pushes the curtain aside. “Go on in.”  
  
He follows Steve inside but stays close to the door, still not completely comfortable – he feels better knowing that he’s not going to be dealing with anyone else but dealing with Steve alone can just as easily be a problem. He doesn’t want to fight Steve. Hell, he doesn’t want to fight anyone, but especially not Steve. And that has nothing to do with the fact that right now he knows damn-well that he’ll get his ass kicked.   
  
Steve turns to look at him, a good, safe, few feet between them. “What’s going on with you?” Steve asks softly. “You weren’t… I thought things would be better, that leaving you here would help. T’Challa said it worked, that Shuri was able to deprogram you.”   
  
“The codes don’t work anymore. I have no idea if there are others out there, or well, in here,” he gestures to his head, “but Shuri… She’s pretty positive that she was able to fix it.”  
  
“But you don’t believe it,” Steve states simply.  
  
“All I know for sure is _that_ set of codes doesn’t work. But that doesn’t mean that I’m completely fixed.”  
  
“It also doesn’t mean that you’re _not_ ,” Steve counters. Bucky just shrugs his shoulder in response. “Why would you think that I’d have someone else with me?”  
  
“Why wouldn’t I think it?”  
  
“Because there’s no reason to,” Steve sighs. “It’s real simple, Bucky. T’Challa called and let me know that they woke you up, that his sister was able to undo what had been done. I wanted to come see you so… here I am.”  
  
“And the others, your friends, your team, they were just okay with you popping in to visit?”  
  
“No one even knows I’m here.”  
  
“And you think they won’t notice that Captain America suddenly just disappeared?”  
  
“I’m not… Okay, after I brought you here, I went and busted Sam, Clint, Wanda and Scott out of The Raft. Clint and Scott are at home with their families. Sam, Nat, Wanda and I have been… laying low, sticking together for the most part. Wanda wanted a bit of time to herself and the call from T’Challa came at the same time so I took off on my own as well.”  
  
“What about Stark? The whole Avengers thing?”  
  
“After what happened in Siberia… Tony and I aren’t speaking anymore. And as for The Avengers, they’ve been disbanded.”  
  
“Why didn’t you fix things with Stark?”  
  
“Are you kidding me?” Bucky just shakes his head. “He tried to _kill_ you, Bucky. You really think I’m just gonna go back, act like nothing happened?”  
  
“You shouldn’t lose him, any of them, over me. It’s like I said in the jet, I’m not worth all this.”  
  
“You are to me,” Steve replies softly. “And with Tony… It wasn’t _just_ because of you. That was just the final straw. We were already fighting over the Accords.”  
  
“You could still fix it.”  
  
“I don’t want to.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“You… How can you not get it? If it’s a choice between _anyone_ and you, I’m gonna choose you, I always have.”  
  
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”  
  
“Why?” Steve repeats.  
  
“’cause I’m not worth it, Steve!” Bucky half-shouts. “The things I’ve done… Hell, I’ve tried to kill you, multiple times…”  
  
Steve crosses the room in two large steps, one hand gripping Bucky’s arm, the other one on his waist, just like outside, those intense blue eyes staring right into Bucky’s. He’s too close again, making it hard for Bucky to breathe, to think. “No, that wasn’t you,” he argues, tone firm but soft.  
  
“It was,” Bucky counters. “ _My_ body, _my_ hand around your Goddamn throat. I shot you! Several times!”  
  
“That wasn’t _you_ ,” Steve repeats. “It was Hydra. _They_ did that, _they_ made you something that you’re not.” Steve’s fingers flex, digging just barely into Bucky’s bicep. “They tortured you, brainwashed you, turned you into…”  
  
“A killer,” Bucky supplies when Steve trails off. “Doesn’t really matter though. The blood is on _my_ hands. And I have to live with that. And that’s fine, it’s what I deserve. But you… You’re a Goddamn _hero_ , Steve. The world needs you just as much as it always has. Which is why you should go back home, fix things with Stark.”  
  
“No,” Steve replies evenly.  
  
“Still such a stubborn jackass,” Bucky mutters, shaking his head. “You should’a just done the right thing in the first place and we wouldn’t even be having this discussion.”  
  
“I _did_ do the right thing, when I brought you here. You were a _victim_ , Buck.”  
  
“You should’a let ‘em have me, Steve.”  
  
“You were innocent,” Steve argues.  
  
“Of the bombing, sure. But I’m far from innocent.” Steve’s jaw clenches and there’s a fire in his eyes, that same damn stubborn look he always had back in the day when he was facing off against guys twice, sometimes three times, his size. Bucky knows that look, knows damn-well that Steve is convinced that he’s right and when Steve gets that way there is no changing his mind. They’re just going to keep going round and round – because he’s just as Goddamn stubborn as Steve is – and for what? It won’t get them anywhere.   
  
Bucky sighs, his head pressing back against the wall behind him, his eyes closing. He’s tired. Freaking exhausted really. “I still don’t even understand why you’re here,” Bucky says softly after a few moments of tense silence, reopening his eyes to look at Steve.  
  
“I told you, I wanted to see you.”  
  
“But _why_?”  
  
“Because you’re my best friend and for a long time, I thought you were gone. And I missed you, every damn day.” Steve pauses, shakes his head, his fingers flexing around Bucky’s arm again. “Why’d you pull me out of that river?” he whispers.  
  
He’s confused by the question, well, not the question itself – he remembers Steve asking him the same thing in Bucharest – but he’s confused why Steve is asking again and why now. “I told you that I don’t know,” he answers despite his confusion.  
  
“Yes you do. Something happened on that helicarrier, Buck.”  
  
“I…” Bucky trails off, squeezing his eyes closed against the memory of fighting with Steve on the bridge, hearing Steve say his name, starting to remember before they refried his brain. His body jerks forward, right against Steve’s chest, but Bucky barely registers it. Also barely registers Steve wrapping his arms around him, holding him close. “Steve…” he groans.  
  
“It’s okay, I’m here.” He reaches up, one hand cupping the back of Bucky’s head. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, what you need?” There’s more than a bit of panic in Steve’s tone even though Bucky can tell he’s trying to hide it.  
  
He shakes his head, forces himself to breathe slowly, deeply. It takes a few long moments but eventually he starts to feel a little better. He pushes weakly against Steve’s chest, not surprised at all when he doesn’t move. “Steve,” he sighs.   
  
“Don’t,” Steve replies simply. They stand there for a few more long minutes before Steve loosens his hold just enough to pull back and look at Bucky. “Okay, so that’s twice now. What’s going on?”  
  
“I have some pretty big holes in my memories,” Bucky explains quietly. He doesn’t have the strength or will to argue anymore and there’s no way Steve won’t keep pushing. “Outside… I was remembering you rescuing me, us trying to escape. But it’s more than just simply remembering. It’s… intense, almost overwhelmingly so and it’s kind of like a… full body experience.”  
  
“And this time?” Steve asks softly.  
  
“The fight on the bridge. Them rescrambling my brain because I… I _remembered_ you.” Steve flinches, just a slight, barely-there twitch, but Bucky catches it. “What?”  
  
“Rumlow… When we were in Lagos, the fight that started the whole Accords crap… He said… He told me what happened that day.” Steve closes his eyes for a second, his jaw clenching. “He knew saying your name would distract me,” Steve goes on, reopening his eyes. “I screwed up… I let him get to me…”  
  
“By using me,” Bucky whispers. It’s not a question.  
  
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t go back and change it.” Despite the words, the firm tone that he’s trying so hard to keep, Bucky can tell that it _does_ matter. No matter what has changed about Steve, the one thing that _hasn’t_ is his huge heart. Bucky knows damn-well that Steve feels each and every loss deeply and he knows how much it hurts him. “And I don’t think we should talk about any of this anymore.”  
  
Bucky blinks when he hears Steve’s voice, refocuses on his eyes, not sure how long he drifted off in his own thoughts for. “What? Why? I thought you wanted answers.”  
  
“No, I wanted _one_ answer. But if it’s gonna hurt you…” Steve trails off, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna be another person that hurts you.”  
  
“It’s still a little hazy…”  
  
“Buck…”  
  
“No, it’s okay, Steve. I’m okay. Like I said, still a bit hazy but I think I was starting to remember you again, despite their attempts to stop me from doing so.” Bucky pauses, his throat tightening a bit. “It started… You dropped your shield. And you wouldn’t fight back… kept talking… I’m sorry, that’s the best I got.” He clears his throat, forces a small smile. “After I dragged you out of the water, I set out to try to figure out who I was. The rest you know.”  
  
“Did you really think that I came here to fight or to take you back?” Steve asks softly.  
  
“I honestly didn’t know what to think. I kinda still don’t,” he admits.   
  
“You really can’t believe that I’m here just because I want to be?”  
  
“No, I believe that. I just can’t understand _why_ you’d want to.”  
  
“Wouldn’t you do the same if the tables were turned?”  
  
“Of course but…”  
  
“Ah, no buts,” Steve cuts him off with a grin. “I don’t wanna argue anymore, okay? Please? Can we just… I don’t know, hang out, catch up?”  
  
“You kinda already know everything that’s been happening with me,” Bucky points out.  
  
“Don’t be an ass,” Steve huffs. He takes a few steps back, finally lets go of Bucky. He stands up straight, his shoulders back. “Okay, we’re gonna start over,” he declares.  
  
“We are?”  
  
“Yup.” Steve smiles, sky blue eyes twinkling. “Hey, Buck.”  
  
“This is stupid, Steve,” Bucky points out.  
  
“Will you just… Can I give you a damn hug and we can just pretend that the last however many minutes didn’t happen?”  
  
Bucky can’t stop himself from huffing out a chuckle, even as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, alright, punk.”  
  
“Jerk.”  
  
Bucky closes his eyes when Steve reaches out and pulls him into a hug. He wraps his arm around Steve in return, a foreign sense of peace washing over him. They linger for a few long moments then pull away, both of them smiling. “It really is good to see you, Steve.”  
  
“You too. I’ve missed you.”  
  
“I’ve missed you, too,” Bucky replies honestly. His smile grows and he reaches up, tugging a little on Steve’s longer than usual hair. “And I have to admit, I’m really liking the new look, Cap.”  
  
“Life on the run, ya know? Not a lot of time for a shave and a haircut.”  
  
“Steve…”   
  
Bucky can’t help but wonder if he’ll ever be able to be around Steve again and not feel guilty for _something_.  
  
“I made my choice, Bucky,” Steve states, firm but soft. “The moment that I chose to not follow Tony and sign the Accords, I made my choice. Coming after you, saving you, bringing you here, I’d do all of it again, in a heartbeat.”   
  
“Yeah, ‘cause you never did know when to quit,” Bucky grumbles. Steve, the little shit, just grins. “You think you’re ever gonna learn?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“That honestly doesn’t surprise me.”  
  
“So, really, how ya been?” Steve asks after a few moments of silence.   
  
“Good for the most part. T’Challa and his people have been great.” It’s kind of weird to be having an actual conversation with another person. For the longest time, as The Winter Soldier, he didn’t need to talk, just needed to get the mission done. Even now, he doesn’t really talk all that much. “What about you? You mentioned that you, Sam, Natasha and Wanda are laying low. Are you really?”  
  
“Yeah, there hasn’t been any kind of threats in the past few months that we’ve needed to take care of, so we’ve been on the move, making sure to stay safe and stay under the radar.”  
  
“I’m glad that you have them, Steve.”  
  
“I wish that you weren’t here all alone,” Steve damn-near whispers.  
  
“I’m actually really okay with being alone. Especially right now while I’m still filling in some of the gaps. It’s… quiet, peaceful, here. And I really think that’s what I need the most right now.”   
  
“Do you want me to leave?”  
  
“No, I mean, unless you want.”  
  
“I just spent five hours in the quinjet to come see you and I haven’t even been here an hour. Most of which we spent arguing. So, no, I don’t want to. But I do wanna do what’s best for you. And if me being here upsets you or makes it worse or if you’d rather just be alone…”  
  
“How long can you stay?” Bucky asks quietly, cutting Steve off.  
  
“Few days, a week? Kinda just jumped in the jet once I got the call, so I don’t exactly have a plan here. Just kinda winging it.”   
  
Bucky nods, unsure what to say, what to do, now. The silence stretches between them, turns awkward in a way it never was for them. “You, uh, you wanna sit down?”  
  
Steve glances behind him, turns back to Bucky, his brow furrowed. “There’s only one chair,” he points out.  
  
“Yeah, I know. Go park your ass in it.”  
  
Bucky steps around Steve and crosses the room, leans against the small table. Steve huffs but follows, sits down, glancing up at Bucky. “Happy?”   
  
Bucky ignores him, trying to remember how things used to be so effortless between them, to remember what they used to talk about. Mostly before Bucky shipped out, it was just about the war and Steve’s obsession with getting in, his dangerous need to prove himself. When it wasn’t that, usually it was girls, Bucky trying to get him to come out of his shell a little.   
  
Thinking about girls leads him to thinking about sitting crammed in that ridiculously tiny car with Sam, watching Steve kiss the blonde. Before he can really think better of it, he turns to Steve and blurts out, “How does the whole being a fugitive thing work with your girl?”  
  
“My girl?” Steve asks, confusion clear in his tone.   
  
“Yeah, the blonde who brought you and Sam your stuff.”  
  
“Ah, yeah, Sharon.” Steve huffs out a half chuckle, shakes his head. “She’s not really my girl.”  
  
“Since when do you just kiss random girls then?”  
  
“It’s not… Okay, SHIELD, more specifically Fury, put her in place, in the apartment across from mine, for protection. Nat kept trying to talk me into asking her out and there may have been some really awkward flirting but then Fury…” Steve trails off, shakes his head.   
  
“You can say it. I know what I did.”  
  
“That’s not the point of the story and we don’t need to drag that crap up again.”  
  
“Okay, so how did awkward flirting end up with you kissing her?” The memory of it, seeing Steve with someone else, even though it was just a kiss, twists Bucky’s stomach, things – feelings – he’s been trying really hard not to think about pushing to the surface.  
  
“She helped me track you down,” Steve replies quietly. “She’s CIA and after the UN bombing, she slipped me your file.”  
  
“And the kiss was a thank you?” Bucky half-asks.  
  
“No,” Steve huffs, the faintest blush creeping across his cheeks. “She’s Peggy’s niece,” Steve whispers.  
  
Okay, Bucky can admit that he really didn’t see _that_ one coming. He honestly doesn’t even know how to respond. Luckily Steve keeps going so he doesn’t have to worry about trying.   
  
“I mean, she’s a sweet girl, and I tried, as much as I could anyway. But there was always a mission, some world ending catastrophe, something that would always keep me away.” He pauses, his brow furrowed slightly. “But above all else, I don’t know if I’d ever be able to separate her and Peggy. How could I know if I liked her for _her_ and not because…” he trails off, shaking his head.  
  
“Because you’re trying to hold on to a piece of Peggy,” Bucky finishes for him.   
  
Steve smiles sadly and nods. “Yeah. That kiss… I don’t even know, man,” he huffs, shakes his head again. “Maybe I was just trying to be sure.” Steve clears his throat, looks up at Bucky. “So, I got lucky and didn’t have to deal with Sam teasing the hell outta me. Am I gonna get it twice as bad from you?”  
  
“Why would I tease you?”  
  
“’cause I still have no luck with women?”  
  
“I never teased you before, Steve,” Bucky points out quietly. “But hey, who knows, maybe now that you’re not having to save the world all the time, you can find someone.”  
  
“We don’t exactly stay in one place for long,” Steve replies, shrugging one shoulder. “Besides, it just… I don’t know, it never seemed like a big deal.”  
  
“That’s ‘cause you’re still in love with Peggy.”  
  
“No, not really. When they first brought me outta the ice, yeah. She’ll always have a place in my heart. But I’m not still in love with her.”  
  
Bucky isn’t really sure he believes that. He remembers how much Steve cared for her back then and because of what happened, they never got a chance to see where things could go. Thinking about all this – lost loves and missed opportunities – is making him uncomfortable and he really doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.   
  
“I know you said the whole Avengers thing was over but what if something _does_ happen?” Bucky asks, desperate for _anything_ else to talk about.  
  
Steve looks relieved as well. “I don’t know. I guess it just depends, ya know? If Tony gets involved then I guess we’d just let him deal with it. If he doesn’t, then we’ll have to step in.”  
  
“Won’t that cause a problem with the laying low because you’re fugitives now part?”  
  
“Yeah,” Steve huffs out a half-chuckle. “Hopefully there won’t be any so none of us will have to worry about it.”  
  
“How long are you guys planning to stay on the run? You can’t keep that up forever, Steve.”  
  
“I don’t know that either.” Steve sighs, shakes his head. “All I do know is that right now you’re safe here and Nat, Sam and Wanda are as safe as I can make them and that’s all that matters to me. Best I can figure, right now, we’ll just take it as it comes.”  
  
“Can’t they track the quinjet?”  
  
“Not in stealth mode.”  
  
Bucky nods, stares down at the floor between his feet. He’s not used to things being weird and awkward between him and Steve. But so much time has passed and so many things have happened, so much that has torn them apart, time after time. “It never used to be this difficult,” he says softly, mostly just thinking out-loud.  
  
“No, it wasn’t,” Steve replies, just as soft. Bucky is surprised when he feels Steve touch his arm, his fingers sliding down over his hand. He glances up, not sure what to make of all the emotions swirling in Steve’s eyes.   
  
“What?” Bucky whispers, once again all the things he’s tried so hard to not think about, all the feelings that he’s tried to hide from since coming out of cryo, come bubbling to the surface and he feels like he could drown in them.   
  
“It doesn’t have to be,” Steve murmurs.  
  
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Steve.”  
  
“It could be.”  
  
“So much has happened…”  
  
“All that’s in the past. And we can’t do anything to change it, even if I wish we could. We got a second… well, third, chance here, Buck. Not many people get that.”  
  
“I’m not the same guy I used to be…”  
  
“Neither am I.”  
  
“No, deep down, you’re still the same.”  
  
“Not really, not anymore.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Losing you changed me,” Steve replies quietly, fingers curling around Bucky’s wrist. “Then crashing into the ice, waking up nearly 70 years later. Everything that’s happened since… It’s all changed me.”  
  
“Well, yeah, but deep down, you’re still the same, Steve. You still got a heart that’s bigger than anyone I’ve ever known, even if it’s been broken a few times.”  
  
“I just… I’ve missed you, _so much_ , Buck.”  
  
“I missed you, too. When I could remember you, that is,” Bucky teases, hoping to get them past talking about, thinking about, the past.  
  
Thankfully, the teasing works and Steve huffs out a soft chuckle, shaking his head fondly.  
  
“Is Shuri completely done with the deprogramming?” Steve asks. It’s a bit of an awkward, obviously forced subject change, but Bucky appreciates it.  
  
“She should be. I mean, she’s sure, like I said before. Says that even if there is another set of codes that they won’t work. I just… I hope she’s right but I’m kind of afraid to believe it, ya know? It almost seems too good to be true, seems too easy.” Bucky takes a deep breath and stands up, crosses the small hut and grabs the case that’s laying at the foot of his bed. He brings it back over, sets it on the table and opens it, turns it toward Steve. “This is just the prototype,” he explains softly, watching Steve out of the corner of his eye. “The finished one will of course be completely vibranium so it’ll be lighter than the old one. I, uh, I asked her to make it not as strong but I don’t think that’ll be possible. I mean, with it being vibranium, coupled with my own strength…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulder.  
  
“Why’d you ask for that?” Steve asks softly.   
  
“’cause I don’t wanna hurt anyone anymore,” Bucky sighs. “I mean, I know it wasn’t _just_ the arm, it was me, what they did, the serum… I just thought if it wasn’t as strong that there’d be less of a chance.” He doesn’t want to admit, or even think about, the nightmares – when he actually _can_ sleep, that is – the flashes of memories, where he can see his metal hand wrapped around Steve’s throat – sure, there are others, nameless faces, for _decades_ , but mostly he just sees himself choking Steve. “Also, in case the deprogramming didn’t work, I’d be easier to stop,” he adds quietly.  
  
“They knew your wish, Buck,” Steve points out gently. “And I fully believe that they wouldn’t have brought you out of cryo if there was _any_ chance that it wasn’t completely successful.”  
  
Bucky really wishes that he could share Steve’s boundless optimism when it comes to him. “Yeah, well, guess time will tell.”  
  
“Can I ask why you’re not wearing it?”  
  
“Would you rather I did? Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think…”  
  
When Bucky reaches for the case, Steve wraps his fingers around his wrist, gently pulls his hand away. “That’s not why I asked. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. I was just wondering why.”  
  
“I don’t… I guess it’s just, right now, it’s kind of… too much?” He really didn’t mean for that to come out as a question.  
  
“What d’ya mean?”  
  
“Even though it’s not the same one, I can still see…” Bucky trails off, clears his throat. “Right now, I’m learning to take care of the animals, work on the land, I don’t really need two arms for that. But I mean it, if you want me to…”  
  
“No, it’s okay, seriously. I meant it, Buck. It doesn’t matter to me. Whatever makes you more comfortable.”  
  
“I’ve had it on a few times,” Bucky admits softly, once again glancing at Steve out of the corner of his eye, unable to look directly at his best friend. “There are some things that I can’t do with just one hand. But mostly, right now, it’s just… better for me.”  
  
“Okay then, that’s all that matters,” Steve replies easily.  
  
Bucky licks his lips and turns his head, forcing himself to finally look at Steve again. “I really am glad you’re here,” Bucky damn-near whispers.  
  
“I’m glad to hear that.” Steve gently squeezes Bucky’s wrist again then lets go. Bucky misses the warmth of his touch like breathing.   
  
They both fall quiet again, that same awkward tension filling the air once more. He hates that this seems to be the way things are always going to be now. For a brief moment, he actually thinks that maybe it would be best if they went their separate ways, if maybe this should be the end of the line. No matter what happens now, no matter how good he tries to be from now on, his past will always be there, the things that he’s done… there’s no coming back from that, not really. Even if he spends the next seventy years trying to make up for it, fighting by Steve’s side, being one of the good guys, a hero, instead of a villain, it won’t change what he did. Can he really justify tainting the image of Captain America just because he doesn’t want to give up Steve, even though technically he lost him so long ago? The thoughts leave him sick. This is part of the whole deprogramming thing that he kind of hates. Back when he was The Winter Soldier, he didn’t have to worry about feelings. Now he feels like he’s drowning in them and he can’t help but miss that part of it, can’t help but think that being a cold, heartless monster might be better than this.   
  
He gasps, his eyes snapping open – he honestly didn’t realize that he’d closed them – when he feels strong, warm hands gripping his shoulders. Steve’s worried eyes swim into view and it takes a few long moments for Bucky to focus on him. Steve’s lips are moving but Bucky can’t hear him over the rush of his own blood in his ears. He’s panting, having a lot of trouble taking in enough air, every muscle in his body tight, and his heart feels like it’s going to break through his ribcage. All of his emotions are way too close to the surface and he can’t handle the look on Steve’s face, in those expressive blue eyes. He tries to turn away, his body starting to tremble, but then those strong, big hands move up, gently cradling both sides of his face, not letting him look away, not letting him hide like he so desperately wants, _needs_ , to.   
  
“… T’Challa… Hold on… Help…” A few words finally break through, panic lacing Steve’s tone.  
  
“Wait,” Bucky manages to rasp, shaking his head as best he can with Steve holding him still. He already owes T’Challa, his people, so much, won’t ever be able to repay all they’ve done for him. The last thing he wants is to cause any problems, to _be_ a problem.  
  
“I don’t know what to do, how to help you,” Steve counters. “ _Please_ , Buck, lemme get help.”  
  
The rushing in his ears has stopped thankfully – even though he kind of wishes he couldn’t hear Steve, the worry, the _fear_ , in his voice is almost too much to deal with – his heart no longer feels like it is about to burst out of his chest and his breathing is slowing down, steadying. His muscles are still tense though, he’s still shaking, trying so hard to fight against the urge to push Steve aside and just _run_. The only reason he doesn’t bother is because he knows it would be pointless. Steve would just follow him. He’d never be able to outrun him.   
  
He may not be able to run but he can put some much-needed space between them. Steve is distracted, thankfully, so it’s easier to push him away than it usually would be. Bucky paces across the room, his shoulders shifting, as he does his best to reign in the onslaught of emotions that caused all this.   
  
“Bucky?”  
  
God, Steve sounds _terrified_. And even though he desperately wants to he can’t ignore it, can’t ignore _him_. He turns around, a safe few feet between them, his heart slamming into his ribs at the look on Steve’s face, in his eyes. He looks like _his_ Steve again, so much heart and emotion his small, sickly body could never handle it all. Bucky’s entire body _aches_ with the need to pull him into his arms, against his chest, shield him from everything, even though Steve rarely ever let him. From the moment they met, going on a hundred years ago, all he ever wanted to do was protect this kid. Before the war, before all the shit that came between them, he never thought _he’d_ be the one Steve needs protection from. How many times has _he_ been the reason Steve’s heart has broken?  
  
“Can you talk to me? Please?” Steve nearly begs.  
  
“I’m okay,” Bucky replies. It sounds like the lie it is, even to his own ears.  
  
“That… _That_ isn’t okay,” Steve points out, flailing one hand behind him toward the table.  
  
“Fine,” Bucky huffs. “I’m okay _now_.”  
  
“What happened? Another memory?”  
  
Bucky can’t lie, doesn’t really want to if he feels like being honest with himself, but he can’t tell Steve the truth either. “I… I need some air.” And even though he thinks some time apart is what they need – or well, what _he_ needs anyway – the thought of being away from Steve is enough to threaten another panic attack. “Let’s take a walk?” He didn’t really mean for it to come out as a question but he’s honestly too tired to care.  
  
There’s a flash of disappointment in Steve’s eyes – great, like he needed _more_ to feel guilty about – but he quickly schools his features, nods once, follows as Bucky leads them out of his hut.   
  
The grounds around his hut are still oddly empty aside from the goats. He never thought he’d feel this way but he misses the kids, the sound of their carefree laughter and joy. And even though he can’t really explain why, even to himself, he really wants Steve to meet them. Maybe if Steve still wants to stay after having to deal with Bucky’s shit he’ll get the chance to.   
  
They walk in silence for a few long minutes. Bucky watches Steve out of the corner of his eye, the soft wonder on his face warming Bucky’s heart, making it a little easier to breathe. He knows how beautiful it is here, has walked this path so many times since he’s been awake. When he’s not with Shuri or learning what he can to try to earn even a fraction of his keep, he walks this path between his hut and the forest. It isn’t just relaxing, beautiful beyond description, but he feels a sense of peace as well. For the first time in longer than he can really remember, when he’s walking this path, he doesn’t feel the need to be on guard. Of course he’s always aware of his surroundings but he doesn’t feel the need to be so hyper-vigilant.   
  
“Shuri showed me this path a few hours after I woke up.” Bucky is honestly just as surprised to hear his own voice as Steve is, if his expression is any indication. Bucky turns to glance at him fully, glad to see some of the worry that he couldn’t completely hide fading away. “After the first round of tests she showed me to my hut then lead me down this way,” he adds softly.  
  
“It’s beautiful,” Steve replies simply.  
  
“It is. I… When things get to be too much or I just need a break… When I can’t sleep, I come down here.” He glances at Steve again as soon as he hears the soft sound of rushing water in the distance. Steve’s eyes light up and he glances back at Bucky, a small smile curling up his lips. “C’mon,” Bucky urges softly as he picks up the pace a bit. God, that smile… He can’t let himself think of the things he’d do for that smile, can’t think about how much it affects him.   
  
Usually when Bucky is walking on his own he isn’t in any big hurry so he takes his time. But for some reason there’s this overwhelming urge to show Steve his personal hiding spot, wants to share it with him so badly he can barely breathe around it.   
  
Steve gasps when they turn the corner and stop, his wide eyes moving frantically as he takes it all in. This area is by far Bucky’s favorite and it’s certainly the most beautiful part of the trail but he can’t tear his gaze away from Steve – his beauty easily a thousand times better.   
  
There is a small lake right in front of them, the path splitting in two around it. But what makes this lake truly special, at least in Bucky’s opinion, is the small waterfall on the far side. It’s just barely taller than him, a few feet across. Instead of the fast, heavy rush of water he’s seen elsewhere, this one is much slower, peaceful in a way that he never would have thought a waterfall could be.   
  
Bucky leans back against a tree along the side of the path, smiling as he watches Steve, warmth blooming in his chest as Steve slowly walks along the bank, looking all around him, There is a beautiful, content, easy smile curling up Steve’s lips as well and Bucky wants to savor this, wants this one moment in time to last forever.  
  
Then Steve turns to him, sky-blue eyes dancing, that serene smile turning fond, loving. Bucky’s heart skip a beat or two, his breath catching in his throat. As much as he tried to deny what’s he’s been feeling since they woke him up, despite the time and distance between them, he loves Steve. Actually, more to the point, he’s _in love_ with Steve. And he has been for so long he doesn’t even remember how it feels to _not_ love Steve.  
  
Bucky sits down, leans back against the tree, smiling when Steve comes over and sits next to him, their shoulders pressed together. They stay there for hours, at times reminiscing about when they were kids, at times Steve telling him about what happened after they pulled him out of the ice. There are a few of those awkward silences but for the most part they manage to get around them. It’s not exactly like old times but it’s not too far off either.  
  
Shuri comes to find them some time later and invites them to come up to the palace for dinner. It’s a small affair, just them and the royal family, which Bucky is grateful for. T’Challa offers Steve one of the many guest rooms but to Bucky’s surprise, Steve politely declines. “Won’t be the first time we’ve had to bunk together, huh, Buck?” Bucky can only smile back at him, shake his head fondly.   
  
It’s late by the time they make it back to Bucky’s hut. They strip down to nothing but their underwear – the night is too warm for much more than that – and settle on the mat in the corner, back to back, both asleep almost immediately.  
  
******  
  
Bucky wakes up with a foreign – yet somehow familiar – sense of peace filling him instead of the usual dread, worry, anger. He smiles without opening his eyes, tilts his head down, the tip of his nose brushing through Steve’s hair. He doesn’t dare move any more than that, doesn’t want to risk waking Steve. He can’t help but wonder when the last time Steve felt safe enough to sleep so soundly was. Judging by how tired he looked when he got here, Bucky imagines it’s been a while. Hell, it’s been a while since he’s felt that way too.  
  
Even though they fell asleep not facing each other, during the night they drifted together, legs tangled, Steve curled up against Bucky’s chest, Bucky’s arm protectively wrapped around Steve’s lean waist. It’s the same way Bucky would wake up when they were younger, when Steve was small enough to fit perfectly in Bucky’s arms, Steve searching out heat and comfort in the middle of long winter nights.  
  
But in all the ways that this is familiar it’s also completely new as well. They were kids back then for the most part. As they got older, as Steve got more stubborn, started to insist he could take care of himself, the nights spent cuddling eventually stopped. It was never sexual, even when Bucky’s feelings for Steve started to change. It was easy to hide his feelings back then, more worried about keeping Steve safe and warm.  
  
But now, Steve is far from that skinny, sickly kid Bucky left behind when he shipped out. No, _this_ Steve is _all_ man, firm muscles covering nearly every inch of his huge frame, heat radiating off his body in waves. He sure as hell wasn’t seeking warmth when he curled up against Bucky’s chest, that’s for sure. Bucky doesn’t know what he was looking for or why, doesn’t know if it’s just a case of old habits, searching out something familiar in a world that still often feels too new, too big.  
  
Steve makes a soft, sleepy noise in the back of his throat and wiggles closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling under Bucky’s jaw and all thoughts aside from _Steve_ and _more_ instantly flee his mind. He bites down hard on his bottom lip to bite back a gasp, reaches up and palms the back of Steve’s head without even thinking about it. His entire body jolts like he’s touched a live wire. What little brain power he has left he uses to keep from rolling Steve beneath him. Even though it shouldn’t, the realization that this is the first time he’s felt arousal since the 40’s shocks him. Logically and logistically it makes sense. Hydra took away everything that made him human, used him for whatever mission, wiped him clean then put him back on ice until they needed him again. Then when he went looking for who he was he was still so messed up that he struggled with simple every day emotions, there was no way he could deal with anything more complex. He spent more than seventy years fighting or running or in cryo, there wasn’t time for something as basic and useless as lust.  
  
It sure as hell seems like his body is trying to make up for lost time now. He’s getting pretty damn tired of his body betraying him because of Steve.  
  
Steve tilts his head a bit more, soft lips and warm breath ghosting over Bucky’s neck, against his thundering pulse and Bucky bites down harder on his lip, squeezes his eyes closed. He should move, should make Steve move, should do _something_ , but he’s frozen, his body overriding his brain. Steve slides his arm from between their chests and wraps it around Bucky, wiggles impossibly closer. Bucky’s eyes snap open when he feels the hot, hard length of Steve’s cock pressing against his thigh, his own cock jerking, pre-come already leaking from the tip. Steve’s fingers dig into Bucky’s back, his hips pushing closer, a low, breathy moan escaping his lips where they’re still brushing against Bucky’s pulse. For his own sanity, Bucky needs to put a stop to this but, more importantly, he needs to stop it for Steve. His friend is obviously not aware of what he’s doing, is more than likely dreaming of Peggy or maybe even Sharon, who knows, but either way, Bucky _is_ aware and he owes it to Steve to look out for him, to protect him, even if it’s from Bucky himself.  
  
But before he can do anything, Steve pushes forward, rolling Bucky completely onto his back, squirms closer until he’s essentially sprawled across Bucky’s chest, his head still tucked beneath Bucky’s jaw. His muscular arm tightens around Bucky as his hips roll forward just barely, grinding his cock against the cut of Bucky’s hipbone. He lets out the sweetest, broken little moan, his lips dragging against Bucky’s throat as he tilts his head back slightly and it _wrecks_ Bucky. Back in the day, while he mostly hooked up with girls, he wasn’t exactly very particular where he found pleasure. He’d been with a handful of guys and it was always enjoyable but this is unlike anything he’s ever felt, with anyone. Knowing that it’s _Steve_ pressed against him, moaning so pretty, all hot and hard, muscles flexing, straining beneath soft, tan skin leaves him dizzy, weak. But the fact that it’s his best friend, the one and only person he’s ever loved, and he’s getting off on it when Steve is completely unaware makes him sick, makes him once again feel like the monster Hydra turned him into.   
  
_That_ is enough to break through the haze.  
  
But again, before he can do anything, he _feels_ the moment Steve wakes up. “Bucky?” he rasps, tone deep, gravelly with sleep. It sends a shiver down his spine.  
  
“Yeah,” Bucky breathes. He forces his hand away from the back of Steve’s head, tries to wiggle out from beneath Steve’s huge body.   
  
To his confusion, Steve tightens his arm even more, nuzzles his face further into the crook of Bucky’s shoulder. He’s shaking. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. If he wasn’t so close, Bucky wouldn’t have heard him.  
  
Luckily, the way they’re laying, Steve’s leg isn’t up high enough to feel how hard Bucky is. Maybe he can still salvage this somehow. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, Steve. You were dreaming, it’s natural…”  
  
“I… I never wanted you to know.”  
  
Although he knows it’s useless, Bucky still tilts his head down, tries to catch a glimpse of Steve’s face. “Never wanted me to know what?” he asks quietly. Steve huffs, shakes his head just barely. “Steve?”  
  
“Don’t make me say it.”  
  
“You’re gonna have to, pal. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
  
“Why, so you can tease me before you kick my ass then tell me you don’t ever wanna see me again?”  
  
Steve sounds nothing like confident, strong Captain America. He sounds like _his_ Steve, the tough as nails act hiding his self-conscious, soft underbelly. And it’s so freaking confusing. Granted, Bucky is still trying to adjust to this new world, to being, more or less, himself again for the first time since Zola started experimenting on him, but he doesn’t think this is a case of him just not getting it. He’s obviously missing something, that’s for sure, but it seems like it’s more because Steve isn’t telling him than him just being clueless.   
  
“First, there would never be a reason that I’d kick your ass or tell you that I don’t wanna see you again,” Bucky points out. He huffs, tried of not being able to see Steve. He tightens his arm and pushes forward, rolling Steve onto his back. Steve lets out a surprised – adorable, even though he’ll never admit it – squeak, blue eyes wide, blinking slowly as he looks up at Bucky. “Second,” he goes on before Steve has a chance to recover and easily push him away, “my brain’s obviously still a bit fried ‘cause I have no idea what you’re talking about. So explain.”  
  
Steve’s jaw clenches and he gets that stubborn look in his eyes, the look that _always_ leads to him getting into a fight. “Fine,” he grits out. But instead of saying anything, he rolls his hips up, his still mostly-hard cock rubbing against Bucky’s hip. “Get it?”  
  
“No. Like I said, it’s natural…”  
  
“It’s natural to get hard from cuddling with your best friend?” Steve cuts him off with a scoff, shaking his head.   
  
“You were probably just dreaming…”  
  
“No,” Steve cuts him off again. “I… Damnit, Bucky.” He closes his eyes, his big, strong hands sliding down Bucky’s back, curling around his waist. “It… It’s you,” he whispers. “It’s always been you.”  
  
“I don’t… What does that mean?” Bucky asks softly, his heart once again picking up speed, pounding against his ribs.  
  
To his surprise, Steve reopens his eyes, looks up at him, a sad smile curling up his lips. “Since when do you need someone to actually tell you that they’re sweet on you?”  
  
“Is that… Are you sweet on me?”  
  
Steve tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowed. “I don’t get it. Are you messing with me or do you really not know?”  
  
“I really don’t know,” Bucky replies honestly. “You know I’d never screw with you over something like this, Steve. Hell, I thought you were just dreamin’ ‘bout Peggy or Sharon or some other girl. Or that you didn’t realize who you were cuddling with.”  
  
“No, I, uh, I knew. I didn’t realize that it was _actually_ happening, thought I was still just dreaming.” Steve pauses, searches Bucky’s eyes for a few long moments. “You really never knew, did you?” he asks softly.  
  
“No.” Bucky shakes his head, huffs out a mostly humorless laugh. “If I did, I wouldn’t’a felt so damn guilty all the time for how I felt.”  
  
“Wait, what does _that_ mean?”  
  
The urge to tease like he usually would is there. But this is too damn important, means _so much_. “I’ve loved you since we were teenagers,” Bucky admits. The urge to flee is also right there – he’s not used to feeling anything, really, but especially not all at once like this; it makes him feel weak and exposed and he doesn’t like it, even if it is just Steve, maybe _because_ it’s Steve – but he forces himself to stay still, to keep the eye contact. Steve opened up first, it’s the absolute _least_ he owes him.  
  
“I know that…”  
  
“I’ve been _in love_ with you since then,” Bucky cuts him off gently. Steve’s lips part, blue eyes glimmering in the weak morning light streaming in through the window. He looks so young, vulnerable, in a way he _never_ has, even before the serum. It makes Bucky ache. “You’re the only person I’ve ever loved,” he adds around the lump in his throat. He shifts his weight a bit, reaches up, the tips of his fingers brushing over the high arc of Steve’s cheekbone, down along his strong jaw. His heart slams into his ribs again when Steve turns into the touch ever so slightly and lets out a shuddering breath. “You have always meant the world to me, Steve. I’m sorry I never told you but I was so afraid of losing you.”  
  
Steve closes his eyes, turns his head a bit more, blindly pressing a kiss to Bucky’s palm. Bucky’s left shoulder – what’s left of it – twitches, for the first time since he woke up he actually misses his arm. He dips down, presses a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Can you let me up?” he asks softly. Steve’s eyes snap open and lock onto his again, panicked, worried. “Just for a second, okay? Promise.”  
  
Steve nods and drops his arms. Bucky pushes himself up and grabs the box that holds his temporary arm. He doesn’t overthink it, just opens the lid, aware of Steve’s gaze on his back as he locks his arm into place. He flexes his fingers, moves his shoulder a bit, takes a few seconds to get used to it again then turns back to the mat. Sure enough, Steve is staring up at him, a complicated mixture of emotions in those deep blue eyes. Bucky flashes him a mildly strained, nervous smile as he sits down on the mat at Steve’s side.   
  
Steve sits up, his gaze moving over Bucky’s shoulder, down his arm. He barely resists the urge to somehow hide from the attention, even though this isn’t the first time Steve has seen him, seen it. “Why’d you put it on?” Steve asks softly, once again looking into Bucky’s eyes.  
  
“I wanna be able to touch you,” Bucky replies, barely above a whisper, his heart pounding.  
  
Steve scoots closer, reaches up, hesitating for a second. Bucky nods, wraps his right arm around Steve’s waist. Steve smiles shyly and dips his head even as his fingers brush against his collarbone. Bucky can’t stop himself from flinching, not used to touch of any kind but especially not _there_ , so close to metal and scarred skin. Steve’s eyes snap back up to him, full of worry. “Does it hurt?”   
  
“No,” Bucky assures him. “I just… No one’s ever touched it. Well, other than when they cut off what was left and attached the metal.”   
  
Steve’s eyes soften and he leans forward, kisses along the scarred skin. Bucky closes his eyes, his right hand sliding around Steve, fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back. Steve reaches up, his fingers sinking into Bucky’s hair, palming the back of his head as he kisses around Bucky’s shoulder, as far as he can reach without moving, then along his collarbone, nose nuzzling beneath Bucky’s jaw. Renewed arousal surges through Bucky and he can’t stop a soft, broken moan, his metal hand gripping Steve’s hip without thinking. He tenses, not sure what Steve’s reaction will be even though he already admitted that he wanted to be able to touch Steve, an apology on his lips, ready to move if need be. Before he can remove his hand, before he can say anything, Steve tilts his head, lips brushing against Bucky’s ear. “It’s okay,” he breathes. Their cheeks slide together, Steve wiggling even closer. “Can… Can you feel me?” he whispers.  
  
With his old arm, there was very little feeling in his hand, his fingers. It wasn’t necessary. He didn’t need to feel to be able to hit, choke, rip things apart. This one is different though. It’s slightly muted and the sensation is of course not the same as his right hand, but he _can_ feel. “Yes,” he whispers back, his fingers flexing a little against Steve’s hip. “That… It’s new, I couldn’t feel anything with the old one.”  
  
“Good,” Steve hums. Bucky can _hear_ the smile in his tone.  
  
He goes back to kissing, brushing his fingers over and around Bucky’s shoulder. It shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it is, the area so sensitive, like it is wired directly to his cock. He lets Steve do as he pleases for a few long minutes until he can’t take it anymore. He reaches up, his right hand sliding into Steve’s hair, fingers curling into a loose fist. He uses the hold to pull Steve’s head back, the flush across his cheeks, his darkened eyes making his blood pump harder, faster through his veins. Steve has always been beautiful in his eyes, even before the serum turned him into a Greek God, but seeing him like this, flushed with arousal, gaze hot and needy, so open and trusting, he’s _beyond_ gorgeous.   
  
Steve tilts his head slightly, a soft, loving, curious smile curling up his lips. “Ya okay?”  
  
Bucky blinks, forces himself to stop daydreaming and do something about the fact that he’s got Steve in his arms, feeling the same way he does, finally after so long. “Can I kiss you?” he asks instead of answering.  
  
Steve looks surprised by the request but nods, his smile turning shy again. It’s a sign that no matter what, deep down, despite the muscles and the superhuman gifts, he’s still the same, sweet boy that Bucky has loved his whole life.   
  
Bucky reaches up, gently cups both sides of Steve’s face, leans in and slides their lips together. He keeps it slow, easy, mostly chaste, for a few long minutes. Then Steve lets out the sweetest, prettiest moan – even better than the ones when he was sleeping and humping against Bucky’s thigh – his arms sliding around Bucky as he melts against Bucky’s chest. Bucky groans and deepens the kiss, gently eases Steve back down onto the mat, their limbs tangled together, bodies pressed as close as possible. Steve moans and writhes beneath him, short fingernails clawing at his back, muscles straining and flexing. It feels better than anything Bucky has ever experienced with anyone else. For a moment he can’t help but regret all the years they lost before the war, all the years that were stolen from them after, but knowing that they have a second – or is it third? – chance makes up for it. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen today, tomorrow, the rest of forever, but he does know one thing with absolute certainty. He is never going to let Steve go again, not now that he has him. He _can’t_. He wouldn’t survive it. That is the _one_ thing he can be grateful to Hydra for. When they took his memories, his emotions, it was easy to live without Steve.   
  
Steve rolls his hips, his rock-hard cock rubbing against Bucky’s thigh and Steve pulls away from the kiss with a gasp, his back arching, fingertips digging into Bucky’s back hard enough to bruise. His eyes are wide, wild, where he’s staring up at Bucky, kiss-bruised lips parted, wide chest heaving as he pants. Bucky slides his hand down Steve’s thigh, tugs him closer as he lifts his own leg, presses against Steve’s trapped length. He’s surprised when Steve cries out, his eyes squeezing closed, his whole body shaking.  
  
“ _More_ ,” Steve begs brokenly, hips twisting and rocking up. “Please, Buck…”  
  
Bucky has heard Steve call him ‘Buck’ more times than he can count and it always warmed his heart, but it has _never_ sent a pulse of heated blood straight to his already straining, leaking cock. Bucky growls – which makes Steve whimper, cling to him harder, a reaction he takes note of – and tightens his hold on Steve’s thigh, just above his knee, uses the hold to spread those long, muscular legs to make room for himself. Steve moans again, arms and legs wrapping around Bucky, once again rolling his hips up. Their cocks rub together, separated by just two thin pieces of cotton – although even just that little bit separating them is too much, he wishes he would’ve taken the time to strip them completely – Steve making the most beautiful, arousing noises, lust-dark eyes wide as he stares up at Bucky in what looks a lot like awe.  
  
Bucky slides his hand up Steve’s thigh, just barely brushing against the sweet curve of his ass and Steve jerks, his eyes slamming closed, crying out again – nearly a sob – body shaking almost violently, his cock jerking, pulsing against Bucky’s. It takes a few long moments for Bucky to realize that he made Steve come. His own cock twitches _hard_ , a low groan rumbling in his chest. He’s so close himself but he’s aware enough to realize that Steve has gone completely still beneath him, his face buried in the crook of Bucky’s shoulder.  
  
Concern overtakes him immediately. He tries to pull back so he can see Steve, not surprised when Steve tightens his hold, keeps hiding from him. “Steve?” he murmurs. Steve stays still and quiet. “C’mon, sweetheart, lemme see you.” He lets go of Steve’s leg, palms the back of his head, fingers kneading his skull. “You’re worryin’ the hell outta me, Stevie,” Bucky whispers, breaking out the nickname he hasn’t used since they were still in single digits, when Steve started to complain that it made him sound like a baby.  
  
To his delight – and settling a bit of worry – Steve huffs, pinches his side. “’m okay,” Steve whispers back.  
  
“Then lemme see you,” Bucky counters.  
  
Steve sighs softly, his whole body going tense as he pulls his head back, eyes guarded as he looks up at Bucky through his lashes. Bucky shifts his weight to his left side, reaches up and palms Steve’s cheek with his right hand. “You don’t look so okay to me,” Bucky points out quietly. “Did we… Did I go too far?”  
  
Steve’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at Bucky fully. “No, of course not. Why would you think…”  
  
“’cause ya kinda freaked out on me,” Bucky cuts him off gently, his thumb absently rubbing along the high arc of Steve’s cheekbone.   
  
Steve’s cheeks flush even as he rolls his eyes, shakes his head. “I didn’t,” he argues.  
  
“Yeah, you kinda did,” Bucky counters. He dips down, brushes a soft, chaste kiss to Steve’s lips. “Can you please tell me what happened so I can stop freaking out?”   
  
“I… It felt so good,” Steve whispers, his eyes dropping to Bucky’s chest, “ _Too_ good,” he adds pointedly.   
  
“That’s not a bad thing, darlin’,” Bucky points out, still more than a little confused.  
  
“I just…” Steve trails off, huffs again. Bucky can see him getting upset, knows by the stubborn set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders that he’s getting frustrated too. Which in this case is a good thing. He loves Steve, God knows he does, but at times the only way he can get the truth out of his stubborn ass is for Steve to get pissed, then he kind of blurts out whatever he’s thinking. “I’ve waited for this, for _you_ , for more than seventy Goddamn _years_ and I didn’t want it to be over that quickly.” He huffs again, rolls his eyes. “Might as well still be that skinny teenage virgin,” he grumbles, more to himself than to Bucky.  
  
“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky breathes, dips down and kisses the corner of Steve’s pouting lips. “I was right there behind you,” he admits.  
  
“Yeah right,” Steve mutters, shooting a glare at Bucky out of the corner of his eye.   
  
“I’m serious…”  
  
“You’re not the nearly hundred year old virgin here, Buck,” Steve snaps.  
  
“What?” Bucky breathes, his eyes widening. There’s no way in hell that Steve actually means that.  
  
Steve sighs, some of the tension melting from his frame. “Yeah,” he lets out a humorless half-chuckle. Bucky hates that sound. “Still just as bad at all this as I was back then.”  
  
“Wait,” Bucky sits up. Not wanting to be so far away from Steve, Bucky reaches out and grabs his wrist, pulling him up as well so that they’re sitting together in the middle of the mat, bodies once again pressed close. He wraps his arm around Steve, absently rubbing his back. He’s pleased to feel Steve relax even more, lean into him. “Are you tellin’ me that you’ve never…”  
  
“Yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’.”  
  
“How is that even possible?” Bucky blurts out. Steve turns to look at him fully, glaring. “Sorry, I just… God, Steve, _look_ at you. You’re gorgeous. But more importantly, you have the biggest, most beautiful heart of… _everyone_.”  
  
Steve snorts, shakes his head. “All that’s just packaging,” he mutters. “Still the same old me on the inside.”  
  
“Hey, don’t do that. The same old you? Pretty amazing. That’s the you I fell in love with.” He leans forward, kisses Steve’s shoulder. “You’ve always been beautiful to me,” he whispers.  
  
Steve reaches up, slides his fingers into Bucky’s hair, nuzzles against his temple. “Think you’re a little biased,” he whispers back, obviously teasing. Bucky smiles, shrugs one shoulder. Maybe he is. “It just never seemed all that important,” he eventually admits, tone still soft, the hand not in Bucky’s hair sliding up and down his side as Bucky keeps pressing kisses to his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, neither of them able to stop touching it seems. “Before the war, it was… always just you. Yeah, I’d go along with you tryin’ to fix me up but only ‘cause that’s what I was _supposed_ to do, to want. Then I met Peggy, got you back, which was damn confusing.” Bucky makes a soft, questioning noise. “I never knew it was possible to love two people like that,” Steve explains quietly. “Then I lost you again… You know what happened after that.”  
  
“How come you haven’t tried since you’ve been back?” Bucky asks softly.  
  
“It’s like I said earlier, when we were talking about Peggy and Sharon. When I first woke up, it was like no time had passed for me. I still loved the two of you. Then I jumped right into working with SHIELD, getting the Avengers up and running… Just one thing after another.” He pauses, his hand sliding up Bucky’s back. Bucky looks up at him. “Then I found out that you were still alive,” he whispers. He slides his hand back down Bucky’s side, up his chest, his fingers brushing along Bucky’s jaw, over his lips. “And even though you didn’t know me… Looking in your eyes that day on the helicarrier… Despite _everything_ , I still loved you just as much as I did the day I lost you. So when I wasn’t working with my team, Sam and I spent the next two years trying to find you. I never once dreamed that we’d ever end up like this,” he smiles, glancing down to where they’re tangled around each other, “but I just wanted you back, that was all that mattered. And it was then that I knew that I’d never love anyone else the way that I love you. So why try?”  
  
Bucky reaches up, palms the back of Steve’s head, pulls him forward, their lips sliding together, slow, sweet, but deep, passionate. “I love you, too,” Bucky murmurs against Steve’s lips, tightening his arms, keeping Steve as close as possible. He keeps his eyes closed when he ends the kiss, tilts his head, presses their foreheads together. “This is the first time I’ve touched someone since before I shipped out,” Bucky confesses quietly.   
  
Steve pulls back just enough to look at him, eyes wide. “Seriously?”  
  
“Seriously.” Bucky licks his lips, his brow furrowing. “Do you… This is about Hydra, do you wanna hear this?” Steve wiggles closer – they seriously can not get any closer without literally becoming one person, not that Bucky is complaining or anything – wraps both arms around Bucky and nods. “They took away everything that made me human,” Bucky explains softly, his left hand rubbing up and down Steve’s back, fingers of his right hand playing with the silky-soft strands of Steve’s hair. “There was no need for emotions so they stripped them away. I was their tool, a means to get the mission done. Then they’d wipe me, put me back on ice until they needed me again. After I pulled you outta the river and went off to try to piece things together… Most days I had trouble with simple, every day emotions… joy, anger, awe, frustration, guilt, fear… There was no way I could deal with lust, love, anything complex like that.”  
  
Steve’s fingers slide over Bucky’s cheek, his temple, down his nose, his eyes and smile soft. Bucky reaches up, gently grabs Steve’s wrist, kisses his palm. Steve smiles sweetly, once again leans heavily against Bucky’s side. “Let’s get outta here for a bit, go for a walk,” Bucky suggests. Steve makes a soft noise of confusion. “I just think… I’ve enjoyed this, a lot. But I think with how heavy things ended up getting that we could just use some space.”  
  
Steve agrees with a nod and a kiss.  
  
They both throw on a light t-shirt and shorts – the air inside the dome is temperature regulated but it’s still too warm for much more – and head outside. It’s still too early for anyone to be up, even the ones that work the fields and Bucky finds that with Steve at his side he actually enjoys the peace and quiet. He doesn’t flinch away when Steve reaches out and grabs his hand, laces their fingers together. There’s a comfortable, easy silence between them as they head deeper into the forest, Bucky leading the way to his – _their_ – mostly secluded little lake.  
  
They stop when they get to the bank and Bucky turns to Steve, mesmerized by the way the sun makes his eyes glimmer, the gentle smile curling up his lips. Unable to resist – he can admit that it sends one hell of thrill through him when he remembers that he doesn’t _have_ to resist anymore – he reaches up, palms Steve’s cheek and leans in to kiss him. He keeps it brief even though he wants to linger.   
  
“Will seeing us together cause problems?” Steve asks softly.  
  
“No,” Bucky replies easily. He chuckles, shakes his head. “Shuri loves to tease the hell outta me over you when we’re together in her lab.”  
  
“She does?” Steve blurts out incredulously.  
  
“Yeah,” Bucky chuckles again. “It’s all harmless joking. I’m pretty sure they’d all be okay with us being together.”  
  
“Are we?” Steve whispers as he takes a step closer, leaving them chest to chest.  
  
“Are we what?”  
  
“Together.”  
  
“I…” Bucky pauses, frowning slightly. “I kinda just assumed we are. I’m sorry, that’s something we probably should’ve talked about…”  
  
Steve leans forward, sliding their lips together, cutting off Bucky’s rambling. He leaves their foreheads pressed together, slips his arm around Bucky. “I’ve loved you since before I even knew what it meant to love someone _that_ much,” he breathes against Bucky’s lips. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to be with you for as long as I can remember.”  
  
“Okay,” Bucky murmurs.   
  
After a few moments of standing together, arms wrapped around each other, clinging, not a care in the world, Bucky slides his hands down Steve’s ribs, slips beneath the hem of his t-shirt, humming in satisfaction when he gets to warm bare skin. “Wanna go for a swim?” Bucky asks quietly.  
  
“Are we allowed?”  
  
“Mmhmm,” Bucky hums in response, his attention already shifted to the feeling of warm skin covering thick muscle.  
  
Steve pulls his shirt off and drops it at their feet. Following Steve’s lead, Bucky does the same, their shorts pushed down and off in the next second. Granted, Bucky has seen Steve shirtless – hell, he had him in his arms half-naked not even an hour ago – but he can’t tear his eyes away from that huge, amazing body. Steve is a bit more subtle about it, checking him out through his lashes. Steve hesitates when he gets down to just his underwear, his fingers hovering above the waistband. Despite a sudden burst of his own nerves, Bucky doesn’t pause, just goes on and pushes his underwear down and off. Steve inhales deeply, exhales slowly, then follows Bucky’s lead this time, stripping away the last bit of fabric between them.  
  
The flush across Steve’s cheeks spills all the way down his neck and chest, obviously self-conscious even though he has no reason to be. As much as Bucky would love to just stand there and stare he leans in and brushes a kiss to Steve’s lips then pulls back, grabs his hand and leads him to the lake.   
  
Like the air around them, the lake is temperature regulated as well. Bucky flashes Steve a smile and tugs him forward. Steve gasps softly, eyes a little wide when he turns to Bucky, obviously surprised by the warmth of the water. “Nice, huh?” Bucky asks softly. Steve merely nods in response.  
  
He keeps a hold on Steve’s hand, pulls him out into the middle of the lake where the water is the deepest – almost to their shoulders. Bucky turns toward Steve, wraps his left arm around him, pulls him close to his chest, Steve in turn wrapping both arms around Bucky’s shoulders, those long legs wrapping around Bucky’s hips, clinging as he leans in, their lips sliding together in a slow yet passionate kiss.  
  
Steve keeps his eyes closed when Bucky pulls back, his lips parted softly. He can’t resist the urge to touch, reaches up, fingers brushing along Steve’s strong jaw, over his cheekbone, down the slope of his nose – Bucky chuckles softly, fondly, when Steve wrinkles his nose in response. Steve opens his eyes, blinking slowly as Bucky traces Steve’s lips. Warmth pools low in his stomach when Steve kisses the tips of his fingers, those clear blue eyes darkening again, his cock hardening between the press of their stomachs.  
  
“Buck,” Steve breathes, arms and legs tightening.  
  
Bucky groans, hand sliding back into Steve’s hair, fingers curling into a loose fist, his own cock hardening as well, tip brushing against the bottom curve of Steve’s ass. He slides his left hand down Steve’s back, fingers gripping one firm cheek. “Drive me _crazy_ when you call me that,” Bucky murmurs, leans in and nips Steve’s bottom lip.  
  
Steve hums softly, reaches up, both hands cradling the back of Bucky’s head. Bucky lets go of his hold on Steve’s hair, drops his arm below the surface of the water, gripping the other cheek of Steve’s ass. Bucky can feel his muscles straining, flexing, as he tries to move, a frustrated half-whine, half-growl rumbling in his chest.  
  
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Bucky asks softly, unable to stop himself from kneading the firm globes of Steve’s perfect ass, the knowledge that he can touch wherever he wants, as much as he wants, is still so new, keeps taking him by surprise.  
  
“More,” Steve breathes, part plea, part command. “Need more, Buck.”  
  
Keeping his hold on Steve, Bucky quickly heads back toward the shore. He gently lays Steve on the soft grassy bank, the lower halves of their bodies still in the water. Steve’s still clinging to Bucky, arms and legs wrapped around him tight. Bucky slides his arms beneath Steve’s back, fingers gripping the tops of his shoulders, their chests pressed together, their straining, leaking cocks trapped between them, rubbing together with every move.  
  
Steve moans, his eyes squeezing closed, neck arching as he tilts his head back, a minute shiver coursing through his entire body that no one else but Bucky would ever notice.  
  
Bucky dips down, kissing and nipping the beautiful line of Steve’s throat, letting out a moan of his own at the taste of clean water and sweat. His fingers tighten in the thick muscles of Steve’s shoulders as he kisses his way up to Steve’s ear, his hips rolling, grinding his cock against Steve’s. “This what you needed, sweetheart?” he rasps against Steve’s ear, lips catching on the shell. So far, the endearments have kind of just slipped out unconsciously but he’s starting to notice that whenever he calls Steve some sweet pet name it makes Steve tremble and moan, makes him hold on tighter.  
  
Steve rocks his hips up to meet Bucky’s next thrust. The pressure, the drag of friction, is exquisite, their trapped lengths twitching, jerking against each other. Steve lets out one of those breathless, broken moans that _wreck_ Bucky, clawing at Bucky’s back, his shoulders, muscles trembling, straining, as he tightens his hold even more, keeping Bucky pressed against him as close and tight as possible.  
  
Until this morning, even after breaking away from Hydra, finding out about himself, Bucky never thought about what it would be like to be with someone stronger than him – granted, he and Steve are pretty closely matched but Steve does have the advantage. Touches, kisses, holds that barely bruise them would seriously hurt anyone else. He kind of of likes that – okay, he _really_ likes it – likes knowing that they don’t have to hold back, that they can be rough if they want without the risk of their strength being too much.  
  
“Bucky, please,” Steve pants, turning his head, blindly searching out Bucky’s lips. “ _Please_ ,” he begs into the kiss, soft and breathy.  
  
“Tell me what you need. Give you anything, everything, doll,” Bucky murmurs, words smeared between them.  
  
Steve’s cock jerks _hard_ against Bucky’s, his fingernails digging into Bucky’s back, the prettiest moan yet escaping his kiss-bruised lips. He’s trembling even more, mewling and writhing nonstop. “Tell me,” Bucky repeats, pulling his head back enough to look down into those glazed, lust-dark blue eyes. “I’ll do anything you need. I’ll take care of you, Steve, you know I will. Just gotta tell me.  
  
“I… I don’t know. Just need more.” Steve lifts his head, nuzzles Bucky’s cheek. “Please, just… _More_ , Buck…”  
  
A fresh surge of heated blood pulses through Bucky’s whole body and he groans, turns his head and crashes their lips together in a desperate, almost violent kiss. He forces himself to end the kiss after a few short moments, leans down more, lips once again hovering over Steve’s ear. “You trust me, sweetheart?” he breathes.  
  
“With my life,” Steve replies easily.  
  
Bucky pulls back, kisses Steve quick and dirty, then wiggles free of Steve’s grip on him. He kisses his way down Steve’s gorgeous body, eyes locked on Steve’s the whole time. He pauses when he gets to Steve’s abs, fondness and amusement warming his heart when he sees the _exact_ moment that Steve figures out where this is going. His eyes widen, lips parting around an almost-hurt groan, his cock jerking, fresh pre-come leaking from the tip.  
  
“Bucky…” Steve whispers, biting down on his bottom lip when Bucky moves a bit lower, kisses the jut of his hipbone.  
  
Bucky drags his tongue down the sharp, sexy as hell V-cut of muscle, still staring up at Steve. When he turns his head, licks a thick, wet stripe up the underside of Steve’s cock, Steve’s eyes widen even more, his hands frantically grabbing Bucky wherever he can reach, his fingers digging into his shoulder, the back of his neck. “Bucky… You don’t… I can’t…” He sounds so worried, fear and panic in his eyes, and it stops Bucky dead in his tracks.  
  
He surges forward, grabs the back of Steve’s head. “Easy,” he murmurs, kissing Steve’s lips, his cheeks, the tip of his nose – he wrinkles it again, shoots Bucky a mild glare, which is what he was going for in the first place. “If you really don’t want me to, I won’t, okay?” he half-asks. Steve nods but his eyes are still too wide, too wild. “I know I don’t have to do anything, that you have no expectations, but I _want_ to. But _only_ if you want it too,” he adds pointedly.  
  
The flush along Steve’s cheeks darkens, his gaze dropping to Bucky’s mouth, heat once again flaring in his sky blue eyes, starts edging out the worry and panic. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” Steve replies quietly, quickly glancing up at Bucky through his lashes before he once again drops his gaze to Bucky’s lips. “I… I was already too close just from us rubbing together. There’s no way I’d last.” He pauses and Bucky can tell that Steve has to force himself to raise his eyes again. “I don’t wanna do that to you again,” he adds, barely above a whisper, his cheeks flushing even darker.  
  
Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s hair, knocks their foreheads together. “I don’t care if you come the second my lips touch you,” he murmurs, nuzzles the tips of their noses together. “I _wanna_ make you come, wanna make you feel good.” He closes his eyes, drops his hips, their still-hard cocks rubbing together. “Besides,” he goes on, barely recognizing the low, raspy tone of his own voice, “I promise I’m right there on that edge with you, doll.” Steve mewls, clings to Bucky’s shoulders, his hips jerking, cock twitching against Bucky’s. “But I mean it. It’s totally up to you, okay?”  
  
“W-want…”  
  
“Want what, darlin’?”  
  
“Y-your mouth,” Steve whispers, so soft Bucky would have missed it if they weren’t pressed together so close.   
  
“You’re sure?”  
  
Steve nods, lets his arms fall to his sides. Bucky smiles, drops a chaste kiss to his lips then starts to crawl backward. This time he forces himself to go slower, takes his time, explores Steve’s chest, his abs; licking, kissing, sucking, biting. The way Steve moans and writhes beneath him drives him crazy, his cock _throbbing_ , leaking like a busted pipe. Ignoring his own arousal, Bucky focuses completely on Steve, which isn’t difficult, he’s spent nearly his whole life focusing on Steve – when he wasn’t being used by Hydra that is.   
  
He wraps his hand around the base of Steve’s cock, once again licks up the underside, swirls his tongue around the tip, groaning in the back of his throat at the salty-sweet taste of pre-come. He can see Steve digging his fingers into the grass out of the corner of his eye, his knuckles white, every muscle in his huge body flexing, straining. Bucky can’t look away. He stares up the long line of Steve’s body, blindly slips his lips over the head, takes Steve as far as he can. It’s been a _long_ damn time since he’s done this but surprisingly it all comes back to him pretty easily.  
  
Steve cries out when Bucky lifts his head, tongue once again teasing along the tip, the slit, chasing after the addictive taste. Steve is already trembling beneath him, back arching, hips twisting, almost-wounded noises falling consistently from his parted lips.   
  
He’s honestly not surprised when Steve cries out again, nearly a sob, a few short minutes later, his cock twitching, pulsing as he comes. Bucky swallows every drop, once again groaning at the taste, the vibrations making Steve whimper, his whole body jerking.  
  
Bucky pulls away and crawls back up between Steve’s legs. He braces his left hand on the ground, reaches for his own straining length with his right. He jerks in surprise when Steve pushes up onto his elbow, grabs the back of Bucky’s neck and pulls him down into a messy, heated kiss. “C’mon,” Steve urges against Bucky’s lips. “Come for me, Buck.”  
  
That does it.  
  
Bucky barely gets a few strokes in before he comes, groaning Steve’s name, his release streaking Steve’s stomach, his chest. He collapses against Steve, smiling tiredly when Steve hums contently and wraps his arms and legs around him.   
  
They fall asleep still clinging to each other in the warm midmorning sun. They go for another swim when they wake up a few hours later, which ends with them back on the grassy bank, jerking each other off as they kiss slow and lazy.   
  
Bucky still can’t believe that after _everything_ , they somehow managed to end up here.   
  
******  
  
The next few days are the best that Bucky’s ever had. Steve helps him with the animals – kisses him to shut him up when Bucky tries to tell him that he doesn’t have to – goes with him the couple of times Shuri needs to see him for one reason or another. They spend all their time together – which is _more_ than okay with Bucky – talking about old times and new, getting to know each other all over again. They curl up together at night, kissing and exploring, finding out what works – and what works _really_ well – both of their stamina getting better and better – although Bucky can still make Steve come in a matter of minutes if he wants to, which he does on occasion; Steve gets really good at returning the favor though, can make Bucky come just as fast.  
  
After Steve has been there a week, even though he hasn’t said anything about leaving and Bucky tries not to think about it, it seems like there’s a clock ticking down in the back of Bucky’s brain. He knows it’s just a matter of time, knows that as much as neither of them want it to happen, Steve will eventually have to leave. Bucky wants to ask him to stay, wants Steve to beg him to ask, but he won’t. He _can’t_.   
  
It’s going to break his heart – Steve’s too more than likely – when that day inevitably comes.   
  
On the ninth day, Bucky wakes up alone, the mat beside him cold.  
  
He stumbles to his feet, barely remembers to stop and wrap one of the robes Shuri gave him around his naked body before he hurries outside. The sun has barely risen, the land surrounding him quiet, peaceful, the direct opposite of the turmoil in his head, his heart.  
  
He’s truly shocked to see Steve jogging toward him, his smile visible even from several yards away. When Bucky doesn’t smile back, Steve’s face falls instantly, obviously worried. He picks up the pace to a flat-out run, skidding to a stop in front of Bucky within a few seconds.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, reaching out for Bucky.  
  
Bucky takes a step back – he can’t have Steve touching him, not now – the hurt in Steve’s eyes twisting his heart. “Bucky?” he whispers.   
  
“Where were you?” Bucky cringes internally at the sound of his own voice, too cold, demanding, too much like The Winter Soldier.  
  
“Buck…” Steve frowns, obviously hearing it as well.   
  
Although he knows he should stop, should take a walk, get his shit together before trying to have this conversation, he _can’t_. Waking up alone, even though he’s been trying to prepare himself for exactly that for the last week, _terrified_ him at the same time that it broke his heart.   
  
“Where were you?” Bucky demands again, barely able to get the words out, his jaw clenched, his throat too tight with emotion.  
  
Steve – naturally – bristles at the command, at Bucky’s tone, but his eyes are sad when he answers softly, “I went for a jog, stopped by the palace to speak with T’Challa…”  
  
“So you’re leaving,” Bucky cuts him off, a statement instead of a question.  
  
“What? That’s not…”  
  
“You thought, what, that you’d leave me asleep, slip away before I noticed?”  
  
The most heartbreaking, _devastated_ look flashes in Steve’s eyes. “Do you honestly think I’m capable of doing that to you?” Steve whispers, his tone wobbling slightly.   
  
“I didn’t… _don’t_ , know what to think.” Bucky closes his eyes for a second, takes a few shuddering breaths. “For the first time since you got here, I woke up alone,” Bucky goes on quietly once he reopens his eyes, forcing himself to look at Steve, to see the hurt in those beautiful blue eyes. _He_ put that hurt there, he should be forced to face it. “And it… It scared the hell outta me, Steve.”  
  
“You should know me well enough by now to know that I’d _never_ do something like that. _Especially_ to you.”  
  
“I know,” Bucky sighs.  
  
“Do you?” Steve snaps, anger mixing with the hurt.   
  
“Of course I do, baby,” Bucky murmurs. He takes the risk, closes the distance between them. Steve doesn’t move away, doesn’t punch him, but he also doesn’t move closer, his arms crossed over his chest. “The past week… This is honestly the happiest, the most at peace, I’ve ever been,” Bucky explains softly. “But it feels so fleeting, like there’s a clock ticking down. And we haven’t even talked about it again since that first day but I know that you have to leave, probably sooner rather than later. And I just… I don’t know how to let you go again.”  
  
Steve’s eyes soften and he reaches out, pulls Bucky into his arms. “Oh, Buck,” he breathes, one hand palming the back of Bucky’s head. Bucky buries his face in the curve of Steve’s neck, closes his eyes. “Having you back, getting to finally be with you in all the ways I’ve always dreamed of… This is the happiest I’ve ever been too. But when I do have to leave for some reason, you can bet your ass that I’ll be back.” He turns his head, nuzzles Bucky’s temple. “I just got you,” he whispers. “No way in hell I’m letting you go, love.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Steve,” Bucky whispers back, his nose dragging along the sweaty column of Steve’s throat.  
  
“I know. And it’s okay. Just… You have to know that this, _you_ , mean the world to me. And I promised you that I wasn’t going to be someone else that hurt you.” He pulls back just enough to look into Bucky’s eyes. “I love you, Buck.”  
  
“I love you, too, Steve.”  
  
Steve smiles, drops his arms but grabs Bucky’s hand, tugs a bit to get him moving. “Let’s go for a swim,” Steve suggests, already leading Bucky down the path toward the lake. “And I’ll tell you why I stopped by to talk with T’Challa today.”  
  
As soon as they reach the lake, Steve drops Bucky’s hand, leans in and gives him a quick kiss, then instantly starts to strip off his clothes, not a bit of hesitation, as he rambles on about how much he loves this time of morning, how peaceful it is, how much he enjoys it just being the two of them even though he really likes all the people he’s met so far. Bucky is frozen in place, mesmerized, his heart pounding against his ribs, his stomach swooping pleasantly. He loves how at ease Steve is, how well he fits in here, how well he fits in at Bucky’s side. The dark, tired, haunted look he showed up with nine days ago is long gone, he looks rested, happy, totally at ease.  
  
Steve stops when he realizes that Bucky hasn’t moved and hasn’t said anything. He frowns slightly, reaches out and grabs Bucky’s wrist, gently pulling him forward, into his arms, obviously uncaring about the fact that he’s completely naked. What a difference a little over a week can make.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Steve asks softly, one hand rubbing the small of Bucky’s back.  
  
“Not a thing,” Bucky replies honestly.  
  
“Then why were you just standing there, starin’ at me like that?”  
  
“’cause you’re beautiful and I love you.”  
  
“Sap,” Steve teases with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling in the early morning sun. Bucky merely shrugs one shoulder in response. Steve isn’t wrong. “You gonna get in with me?” Steve asks after a few moments of pleasant silence.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Gotta lose this then,” Steve murmurs, tugging a bit on the light robe. Bucky licks his lips and nods but instead of taking it off himself, he reaches up, wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders, staring at him expectantly. Steve slides his hands up, staring right back at Bucky, as he gently pushes the material off. His lips part softly, eyes darkening when his hands end up on Bucky’s bare skin. Bucky tightens his arms, their bodies flush together, both of them half-hard already. “Buck…” Steve whispers.  
  
As much as Bucky would like to lay Steve out right here on the grass he can’t pass up the chance to get Steve into the water – wet Steve is one of Bucky’s favorite versions of Steve. “C’mon, doll,” Bucky murmurs, walking Steve backward toward the lake.   
  
Steve lets him lead, not looking behind him once, trusting Bucky to take care of him, to keep him safe. Bucky can’t help but wonder if Steve really knows just how far Bucky is willing to go to accomplish those tasks.  
  
They once again end up in the middle of the lake, water nearly up to their shoulders, legs tangled together as they float there, arms wrapped around each other, sharing slow, almost lazy kisses. Steve pulls back after an indeterminable amount of time, one hand cupping Bucky’s cheek, his thumb rubbing over his lips, down his chin, along his jaw. “You gonna tell me what you and T’Challa talked about?” Bucky asks quietly, his hands sliding up and down Steve’s back, neither of them able to stop touching.  
  
“If you wanna hear it now, sure. If not, we can talk about it later.”  
  
“Tell me now,” Bucky urges. Steve quirks an eyebrow. “I got plans for later,” Bucky murmurs, leans in and nips Steve’s bottom lip.  
  
“O-okay,” Steve stammers. He clears his throat, swallows thickly. “I… I woke up super early this morning,” he starts to explain quietly. “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t wanna risk waking you. So I got dressed, decided to go for a run.” He leans in, kisses the corner of Bucky’s lips. “It always clears my mind, gives me time to think, and today was no exception. All I could think about was you, how much I didn’t wanna leave, even though I know I’d be able to come back.” He tightens his arms around Bucky, sadness flashing in his eyes. “Things are so good between us,” he goes on, barely above a whisper. “I don’t wanna risk it. I… I can’t lose you again, Bucky.” Steve’s voice cracks, unshed tears sparkling in his eyes.  
  
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky soothes. “I’m right here, you’re not gonna lose me.”  
  
Steve closes his eyes, tilts his head forward, their foreheads pressing together. “I know that. But even still, I don’t wanna go, especially not this soon. So I called Nat. Wanda is safe, still bouncing around Europe and there are no world ending issues we need to deal with. So I figured, why not have Nat and Sam come and lay low here? This is the safest place I know, we wouldn’t have to worry about looking over our shoulders all the time. But most important, unless some world ending issue _does_ happen to come up, I won’t have to leave you.”  
  
“Aren’t you worried about them knowing about us?”  
  
“Are you?” Steve counters, pulling back to look at Bucky, his brow furrowed slightly.  
  
“They aren’t my friends, Steve,” Bucky points out. “I don’t really care what they know or don’t know about me aside from how it would affect you.”  
  
“Honestly, I kinda think they probably already know, at least to some extent…”   
  
Steve pauses, his hands sliding down Bucky’s sides, back up his chest, over his shoulders, both hands sinking into Bucky’s hair, tips of his fingers rubbing Bucky’s scalp. Bucky can’t stop the low moan that rumbles in his chest. He leans forward, kisses along Steve’s collarbone, his hands sliding up Steve’s back. When Steve doesn’t continue after a few long moments, Bucky pulls back enough to look up at him, smiling when Steve automatically brushes a kiss to his lips. “You didn’t answer my question,” Bucky reminds him.  
  
“What question?”  
  
Bucky kind of loves how easily distracted Steve is. “Are you worried about them knowing about us?”  
  
“No,” Steve replies simply. Bucky quirks an eyebrow. “I’m really not. If they have an issue with you, with us, then they aren’t really my friends, are they?”  
  
“I don’t know, Steve. I mean, I did try to kill both of them, several times…”  
  
“I thought we agreed that that wasn’t you,” Steve cuts him off, frowning slightly.  
  
There is no way in hell that Bucky is going to start _that_ argument again. He adores Steve’s boundless optimism but Bucky still can’t look at it the same way Steve does.   
  
“Will that matter?” he asks instead.  
  
“Sam fought on our side, Buck,” Steve points out.  
  
“That’s because he didn’t agree with Stark. It had nothing to do with me.”  
  
“Maybe at first, but not in the end.”  
  
“And Nat? She was on Stark’s side.”  
  
“Yeah, but that wasn’t about you. She happened to agree with Tony about the Accords. But she ended up helping us out in the end. Which is why she’s on the run just like me and Sam.”  
  
Bucky sighs and leans in, resting his head on Steve’s chest, closes his eyes. “I just worry,” he admits softly.  
  
“I know you do,” Steve murmurs. “You always have.”  
  
“I just… You’ve already lost a lot because of me, I don’t want you to lose what little you have left.”  
  
“I made my decisions, Buck. And I don’t regret them for a second.” Steve kisses the top of his head, tightens his arms around Bucky. “It doesn’t matter if I lose everything, everyone, as long as I have you,” he whispers.  
  
“Now who’s being a sap?” Bucky teases even though the words warm his heart.  
  
“It’s true though,” Steve replies easily, shrugging one shoulder. “You’re all I’ve ever needed.”  
  
Bucky tilts his head up, kisses the side of Steve’s lips. “What’d Nat say about the offer?” he asks quietly. He suddenly really, _really_ wants this conversation to be over, wants to spend the rest of the morning before they have to get to work once again exploring Steve’s beautiful body.  
  
“I didn’t mention it to her.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Well, first I had to discuss it with T’Challa. Sure he was okay with you and me but it wasn’t my place to make an offer like that. Then, I had to discuss it with you.”  
  
“Why me?”  
  
“Seriously?” Steve huffs. Bucky just shrugs. “This is your home, Bucky. At least for now. Also, there’s the issue of whether or not you want Nat and Sam to know about us…”  
  
“Again, the only reason it would matter to me would be if it affected you. If you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it. What did T’Challa say?”  
  
“He said that they’re welcome if they want to come.”  
  
“Well alright, that solves that then.”  
  
“You’re really okay with it?” Steve asks softly.  
  
“You know me, I wouldn’t lie to you.”  
  
“Okay,” Steve agrees with a smile.  
  
They spend the rest of the morning clinging to each other in the lake, kissing and making out, Bucky eventually dragging Steve back onto the bank, rubbing and grinding against each other until they both come. Then they spend the afternoon working, once again have dinner with T’Challa in the palace, which is when Steve calls Nat and offers them sanctuary in Wakanda. Sam and Nat both agree and make plans for Steve to take the jet and go get them the next day.  
  
While Steve and T’Challa are working out the details, Bucky slips away and raids Shuri’s lab. He meant it when he told Steve that he has plans.  
  
******   
  
Bucky tries not to think of this as their last night together.   
  
Even though Steve is heading out in the morning, he’s just picking Nat and Sam up and will be back by early evening at the latest. But it still kind of feels like it’s the end. Which Bucky technically knows it isn’t. He’ll just feel better when Steve is back, safe and sound, even if it is with two Avengers in tow. Steve may believe that their actions during the fight with Stark mean that they don’t have a problem with him but he knows better. Their allegiance was with _Steve_ , not him. And he’s pretty sure that they aren’t going to be terribly open or supportive toward him or his relationship with Steve. He doesn’t care about himself, he just hopes Steve doesn’t end up getting hurt in any way.  
  
He gets caught up in his own head, worrying too much, thinking too much, about tomorrow, how things will inevitably change between him and Steve, the plans he has for tonight. He finds himself cleaning up around the already-clean hut as Steve gets ready for bed, the mess of noise in his head almost as bad as one of his flashbacks.  
  
“Bucky!”  
  
Bucky cringes at the sound – and tone – of Steve’s voice, turns around to face him. “Yeah?” He gets distracted for a moment by all the bare skin and firm muscle, Steve already stripped down, ready for bed. He blinks, internally shakes himself, not wanting to get caught up in his head again.  
  
“What the hell is wrong with you?”  
  
“Nothing, why?”  
  
“’cause you’ve cleaned that part of the table six times,” Steve points out. “And I had to say your name three times to get your attention. So what’s up?”  
  
“Nothing, seriously. I’m fine. Just… caught up in my own head.”  
  
“You wanna talk about it?”  
  
“No. I said I’m fine.” He cringes again at the tone of his own voice, how cold and hard he sounds. There’s a flash of hurt in Steve’s eyes even though he tries to hide it. Bucky sighs and tosses the rag onto the table, sits down on the mat next to Steve’s hip. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, reaches out and wraps his arm around Steve’s waist. He’s thankful as hell when Steve leans into him like he usually does, rests his head on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky slides his hand up Steve’s back, into his hair, closes his eyes. “I really am okay,” he goes on, kneading the back of Steve’s head. Steve lets out a soft, content sound and wiggles closer, wraps his arms around Bucky. “And I’m sorry I snapped.”  
  
“Talk to me?” Steve half-asks, one hand sliding up the back of Bucky’s shirt, tips of his fingers brushing against the small of his back. It’s distracting.  
  
“I… I don’t wanna argue. Not tonight.”  
  
“Why would we argue?” Steve asks, pulling his head back just enough to look at Bucky. Steve knows him so well, Bucky doesn’t even need to answer, Steve sees it in his eyes. “It’s about Nat and Sam again, isn’t it.” It sounds like a question but it really isn’t, Steve already knows. “You said you’re okay with this.”  
  
“And I meant that,” Bucky replies quietly. Steve quirks an eyebrow. “I promise, Steve. It’s not that I’m not okay with them or with them being here. I just… It’s like I said earlier, I just worry.” He reaches up with his free hand, fingers brushing along Steve’s jaw, his cheek, over his lips. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” he adds, barely above a whisper.  
  
“I’m not gonna get hurt, Buck. They both know how much you mean to me even if they don’t know exactly how I feel about you. Although, like I said earlier, I think they might suspect. I honestly doubt it’ll be a surprise to them.”  
  
“And what if they’re not okay with it? With me?”  
  
“I told you, if it’s between you and _anyone_ it’s not even a choice. But I don’t believe it’ll come to that. Nat wasn’t even surprised when I told her where I was. She even asked how you’re doing.”  
  
“I’m sorry, I know you know them better and that you don’t need me lookin’ out for you anymore…”  
  
“Hey, don’t,” Steve cuts him off, frowning slightly.  
  
“It’s true, Steve. You haven’t needed me for a long time.”  
  
“Just because I can hold my own in a fight now doesn’t mean that I don’t still need you. I’ll _always_ need you.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Bucky repeats, leans forward and brushes a kiss to Steve’s lips. “I meant it, I don’t wanna argue tonight. Okay?” Steve frowns deeper, his brow furrowing. “I trust you, alright? If you say it’s gonna be okay then it’s gonna be okay.” Bucky palms the back of Steve’s head, pulls him in, lips sliding together. “No more arguing,” he murmurs against Steve’s lips, “No more talking about them. Deal?”  
  
Luckily, Bucky’s ability to distract Steve with kisses and touches works. Steve melts against Bucky’s chest, hums in the back of his throat in agreement, his other hand sliding under Bucky’s shirt as the kiss deepens, heats. Although it’s still in the back of his mind, Bucky manages to do a damn good job of distracting himself as well.   
  
He breaks the kiss, pulls away from Steve just long enough to take off his shirt, Steve already reaching for him again before the material even hits the floor. For the longest time, all they do is cling to each other, kisses growing more and more heated, desperate, until Bucky honestly just can’t take it anymore. He tightens his arms around Steve and leans back, pulling Steve with him, into the open spread of his legs. Steve makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, his hands sliding down Bucky’s sides, trying to push his underwear off without moving or breaking the kiss.   
  
Bucky chuckles, pushes Steve away long enough to wiggle out of them himself, tossing them onto the floor as well. Steve hums contently and settles back down, their bare, hard lengths rubbing together, trapped between the press of their stomachs. Bucky slides his hands down Steve’s back, grabs his ass, squeezing the firm globes, silently encouraging Steve to rock down against him. Steve moans, grabs both sides of Bucky’s face, crashes their lips together again.  
  
They could get off just like this and it’d be amazing – everything with Steve is amazing – but this is basically all they’ve been doing aside from a few hand-jobs and blow-jobs. He doesn’t want to think this way but if this _is_ their last night, Bucky wants more, wants to give Steve everything.  
  
He reaches over the edge of the mat, grabs the bottle of lube he ‘borrowed’ from Shuri’s lab – he isn’t going to ask, doesn’t want to know – and presses it against Steve’s chest. Steve pulls back, glances down, his eyes quickly darting back up to Bucky’s.  
  
“Buck?” he whispers.  
  
Bucky tries very hard to ignore the slight shaking in his hand, tries to keep his voice steady – he’s been with other guys, sure, but it was _a long_ time ago and it never got this far. “I want you to fuck me.”  
  
When Steve doesn’t automatically take it, Bucky pushes the bottle harder against his chest, stares up at him expectantly. Steve takes the bottle and sets it aside, his brow furrowed when he turns back to Bucky. For a moment, he’s afraid that he’s pushed too far, that this isn’t something that Steve wants but when he looks deeper into those baby blue eyes, he doesn’t see disgust or anything of the sort. If anything, he sees what looks a bit like fear.  
  
He reaches up, palms Steve’s cheek. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”  
  
“I don’t… that’s not what I want,” Steve whispers.  
  
Okay, maybe he was wrong and that _was_ disgust in Steve’s eyes. “That’s fine. We don’t have to…”  
  
Steve shakes his head, turns and presses a kiss to Bucky’s palm. “I… It’s not that I don’t wanna do it. I just… On the rare occasions that I’d actually let myself think of it, it was always you inside me.” His tone is so low that if they weren’t pressed so close together Bucky wouldn’t be able to hear him.   
  
Bucky would be lying if he said that he doesn’t want to sink into Steve, fuck him into the mat, that he hasn’t thought about it, both when they were younger and over the last nine days. But the thought of hurting Steve makes his stomach churn and he doesn’t want to risk it.   
  
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he explains softly.  
  
“You won’t,” Steve counters. “You couldn’t.” He dips down, brushes a chaste kiss to Bucky’s lips. “’sides, I don’t… You know I’ve never done this. I don’t know what to do.”  
  
“I’ve never done it either.”  
  
“But you _have_ had sex,” Steve points out.  
  
“Yeah, with _girls_.”  
  
“How different could it be?”  
  
“ _Very_ different.” Bucky lifts his head, kisses Steve, slow and sweet. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he repeats.  
  
“I trust you,” Steve whispers against his lips. “I… Please, Buck?” He kisses his way across Bucky’s cheek, down over his jaw, lips ghosting over his ear. “I wanna feel you inside me,” he adds, soft and breathy, his cock twitching against Bucky’s.  
  
Bucky squeezes his eyes closed, a low, deep groan rumbling in his chest, the hand still on Steve’s ass tightening. Steve moans and pushes back against Bucky’s hand, biting and sucking down Bucky’s neck, the curve of his shoulder. “God, Steve,” Bucky breathes, his hips rocking up against Steve’s. “Are you sure, baby?”   
  
“Yes, please. Want it, love.”  
  
Bucky surges forward, flips Steve onto his back, pushes his way between his long, muscular legs. He grabs both sides of Steve’s face, stares down into his lust-dark blue eyes. “You need to stop, for _any_ reason, you tell me,” he half-commands, half-begs, barely recognizing the deep, raspy tone of his own voice. Steve nods, grabs Bucky’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer. “Say it, Steve,” he rasps, his self-control hanging on by a thread. “Promise me.”  
  
“I promise, Buck,” Steve breathes, his fingers digging into Bucky’s back.   
  
Bucky nods, dips down and brushes a quick, chaste kiss to Steve’s lips. “I love you,” he whispers when he pulls back.  
  
“I love you, too,” Steve replies softly, a bright, beautiful smile curling up his lips, his eyes sparkling in the low, flickering light of the lantern that’s sitting on the table. Bucky’s so glad he didn’t blow the flame out like he usually does when they settle down for the night.   
  
Bucky may not have practical experience with this but he does have a pretty good general idea of what he needs to do. With one last, quick kiss, Bucky moves from between Steve’s legs, presses up against his side. He pours some of the lube over his fingers, rubbing them together to warm the slightly chilly liquid, doing his best to ignore the way his hand is shaking slightly.   
  
“Where’d you get that?” Steve asks quietly.  
  
“I, uh, I kinda snuck into Shuri’s lab tonight after dinner while you and T’Challa were working out the details for tomorrow.” Bucky chuckles at the look on Steve’s face. “Yeah, I figure it’s best to just not think about it.”  
  
“Yeah, that… that’s a really good idea.”  
  
Bucky chuckles again and leans forward, kissing Steve. He means to keep it simple, chaste, but Steve reaches up, palms the back of his head, pushes to deepen it. Bucky complies of course, kissing Steve is definitely one of his favorite things to do. Steve wraps both arms around Bucky, keeps him close, even as he spreads his legs a little more. Bucky takes the unspoken hint and reaches down, tips of his fingers brushing lightly over the furled muscle of Steve’s hole. They both moan at the simple touch, bodies shifting impossibly closer, the kiss turning heated, needy, bordering on desperate. Bucky spends a few long minutes merely circling his fingers around the rim until he feels the muscle start to relax. He adds a bit of pressure, surprised to feel it give a little, the tip of his index finger pushing into Steve.  
  
Steve pulls away from the kiss, eyes wide where he’s staring up at Bucky, both of them freezing aside from the slight heaving of their chests. “Okay?” Bucky manages to rasp. Steve merely nods in response. “More?” God, they’ve barely started and Bucky already can’t handle forming complete sentences. Steve nods again. Well, at least he’s marginally better off than Steve.   
  
He pushes forward, slow but steady, gaze laser-locked on Steve’s face. He winces a little, wrinkles his nose, hips squirming slightly but he doesn’t tell Bucky to stop so Bucky doesn’t, keeps pushing until his finger is all the way in. Steve’s almost unbearably tight and so warm, his inner muscles lightly fluttering against his finger, getting used to the intrusion. The sensation alone has Bucky’s cock jerking, pre-come oozing down his shaft.   
  
Steve’s hips settle and he lets out a sigh, turning his head, face buried in the curve of Bucky’s neck. Bucky shifts his weight a little, his left hand palming the back of Steve’s head. “Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” Bucky asks softly.  
  
“It… Yeah, I’m okay. Was kinda weird at first.”  
  
“You wanna keep going?”  
  
Steve pulls his head back just enough to look up into Bucky’s eyes. “I love you. And I love that you’re worried about me and that you wanna make sure I’m okay. But you don’t need to ask, okay? I promise I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.”  
  
“Sorry,” Bucky sighs. “I just…”  
  
“It’s okay, Buck,” Steve cuts him off softly. “I get it. But I’m good, alright? And if I’m not, you’ll be the first to know.”  
  
Bucky huffs, shakes his head fondly. “Alright. Punk,” he murmurs.   
  
“Jerk,” Steve replies easily. He tilts his head up, nuzzles under Bucky’s jaw. “Keep goin’,” he urges quietly.  
  
Bucky slowly pulls his finger back, almost all the way out, then pushes back in. Steve moans softly, tightens his arms around Bucky, face once again buried in the curve of Bucky’s neck. He spends a few long minutes working a single finger in and out of Steve, rubbing along his inner walls. As he’s pulling his finger out, he presses against a spot that makes Steve’s entire body jerk, a strangled moan tearing from his throat.  
  
“Oh, God, Bucky. _Again_.”  
  
Bucky closes his eyes, does his best to ignore the way that reaction went straight to his cock, and rubs along the same area. Steve claws at his back, wet, open mouth dragging along his neck, another moan rumbling in his chest. He’s not really sure what that spot is but he keeps rubbing over it, mesmerized by the sounds Steve is making, the way his whole body trembles, his legs spreading wider, back arching as he writhes beneath Bucky.  
  
“ _More_ ,” Steve breathes. “Please, Buck…”  
  
Bucky carefully works a second finger into Steve, trying to go slow but Steve tilts his hips down, pushes against him, mewling and moaning, dragging his fingernails down Bucky’s back hard enough to sting a little. “You like this, sweetheart?” Bucky rasps, tilts his head down, his nose nuzzling in Steve’s sweat-damp hair. “’s it good?”   
  
“So good,” Steve moans.  
  
“What’s it feel like? Talk to me, doll.”  
  
Bucky has never been much of a talker during sex but, like everything else, it’s different with Steve. He’s also never been selfish, was always more concerned with his partner’s pleasure before his own, but it’s more important with Steve. While he may have cared about a few of them, he never loved anyone that he slept with. All his life, it’s always been Steve, there just never was room in his heart for anyone else.   
  
Steve mewls softly, tilts his head, kisses along Bucky’s jaw, words smeared against his skin when Steve replies. “Tight, full. Burns a little,” He kisses the sensitive spot beneath Bucky’s ear, “I like it though,” he adds, tone low, deeper than Bucky has ever heard it. He rubs over that sweet spot again, earning one of those sweet, breathy moans right against his ear. “Need more, Buck. Need you inside me.”  
  
A fresh shot of arousal zips down Bucky’s spine, his cock leaking like a busted pipe. He’s _more_ than ready but Steve is still so damn tight, he knows there’s no way he wouldn’t tear him up if he tried right now. Super soldier, advanced healing, all that be damned, there’s no way in hell he’s going to risk it. “Just one more, baby,” he half-begs, his fingers sliding into Steve’s hair. Using the grip on the thick, sweaty strands, he pulls Steve’s head back, meets his needy, heavy-lidded eyes. “Almost, okay? Just one more, don’t wanna hurt you, darlin’.”  
  
Steve lifts his head, slams their lips together, the kiss instantly desperate, almost violent. “Hurry,” he begs against Bucky’s lips, the word almost lost in the slide of their lips and tongues.   
  
Bucky pulls his fingers out, pushes back in with three. Steve tenses up, hissing softly, fingers digging bruises into Bucky’s back. Bucky freezes, breaks the kiss, his stomach twisting at the pain lines around Steve’s eyes, his mouth.  
  
“Steve…”  
  
“I’m okay,” Steve cuts him off. Steve takes a few deep breathes and, to Bucky’s relief, he feels Steve start to relax again, although slowly. “Just… Gimme a sec?”  
  
“Of course, baby, whatever you need.”  
  
Steve reaches up with one hand, pushes Bucky’s hair back out of his face, fingertips sliding down his cheek, his jaw, over his kiss-bruised lips, his eyes soft, full of so much emotion it almost hurts to look at him. “Love when you say stuff like that,” he admits quietly, the flush along his cheeks darkening a bit.  
  
“Like what?” Bucky asks, just as quiet.  
  
“Baby, sweetheart, that kinda stuff.”  
  
Bucky kind of already figured that out – Steve can’t really hide his reactions to anything, is always so open, at least to Bucky – but it’s nice to hear. “Good,” Bucky murmurs, pulling Steve back in, kissing him slow, passionate.  
  
“You can move,” Steve whispers against his lips.  
  
Bucky wants to ask if he’s sure but he agreed not to do that. He trusts Steve to speak up, to know his own limits, but it’s just second nature to look out for him, even though he still thinks Steve doesn’t need that from him anymore.   
  
He honestly doesn’t know how long he spends working three fingers into Steve. He’s still so damn tight, granted not as tight as before, but Bucky has real doubts about whether or not his cock will actually fit in there. Steve has long since lost his patience, begging and demanding in equal measure, writhing and moaning, hips rocking down into every thrust of Bucky’s fingers. It’s really freaking hard to ignore not only his own straining length but to ignore Steve, the need in his voice, in his eyes where he’s staring up at Bucky.  
  
Steve is shaking, leaking so much there’s a small puddle of pre-come gathered on his abs, his cock jerking with every swipe of Bucky’s fingers against his sweet spot. He teases over the area again, loving the response he gets, but this time Steve’s eyes widen, his inner muscles clamping down on Bucky’s fingers a split-second before Steve cries out, gripping Bucky bruise-tight as he comes, his cock completely untouched.  
  
“Holy shit,” Bucky breathes, his own eyes widening, his cock jerking hard enough to almost hurt.  
  
Steve melts into the mat once his orgasm passes, heavy-lidded eyes blinking slowly, huge body twitching every now and then with aftershocks. Bucky pulls his fingers out, shushing Steve when he makes an unhappy noise. “Don’t like that,” Steve mutters.  
  
“What, sweetheart?”  
  
“Feelin’ empty.”  
  
Bucky turns just enough to grab his shirt off the floor, wiping his fingers off then turns back to Steve, gathering him in his arms. Steve goes easily, body limp like a big overgrown ragdoll. He holds Steve close to his chest, lips pressed against the top of his head. “You okay?”  
  
“Mmm,” Steve hums, presses a kiss to Bucky’s still-pounding heart. “That was intense.” He tilts his head, kisses along Bucky’s collarbone, one hand sliding down between them, palming the hot, hard length of Bucky’s cock. Bucky can’t stop the way his hips jerk forward, a low groan rumbling in his chest. “Still want you inside me,” Steve whispers, curling his fingers around the shaft, thumb teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves beneath the head, up over the tip, smearing through the pre-come leaking from the slit. He looks up at Bucky, brings his hand up, sucks his thumb into his mouth, moaning softly, his eyes fluttering closed for a second.  
  
“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, doll,” Bucky grits out.  
  
Steve reopens his eyes, slowly pulls his thumb free, then reaches out, grabs Bucky’s wrist and shoves his hand between them, presses it against his still half-hard length. That happens sometimes, the serum obviously messing with more than they originally thought. It happens to Bucky too, although less often than Steve due to the different versions of the serum they received. Sometimes Steve can get off two, three times before his cock softens completely.  
  
“C’mon, Buck,” Steve urges softly. “Need you.”  
  
Bucky rolls Steve onto his back again, crawls between his spread legs, his hands sliding up his inner thighs. Steve mewls and squirms, lets his legs fall open even more. He’s Goddamn gorgeous spread out like this, sweat-slick, flushed with arousal, his cock already on the way to being completely hard again, staring up at Bucky with needy, loving eyes. Bucky loves him so much it’s hard to breathe around it at times, like his body just can’t handle that much emotion.  
  
Steve smiles at him, nudges him with his knee, hands Bucky the bottle of lube he’d dropped on the mat earlier. His hands are shaking again when he takes the bottle, unable to keep Steve from noticing this time. Steve sits up, wraps his arms around Bucky, brushes a kiss to his lips. “It’s okay,” he whispers, knocking their foreheads together.   
  
Bucky smiles, closes his eyes for a second, breathes in the scent of Steve all around him, lets it settle him. Mostly. He’s still nervous like it’s _his_ first time instead of Steve’s.   
  
Steve squeezes him once then flops back down, legs once again spread wide. Bucky slicks his fingers again, pushes three back into Steve. His orgasm loosened him up a bit more than he was, which Bucky is grateful for. He spends just a few moments twisting his fingers inside Steve before pulling them away. He pours more lube than is probably necessary into his palm, hissing through his teeth, his jaw clenching as he slicks his own cock. He’s already on edge, has been for what feels like hours, and he can’t help but wonder if he’ll be able to hold out long enough to even get inside Steve.  
  
He leans over, left hand on the mat next to Steve’s head, other hand between them, holding himself steady. Steve smiles again, wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky takes a deep breath, his gaze locked with Steve’s, and lines up, his jaw clenching even more when the tip of his cock pushes against Steve. There’s a bit of resistance but Steve seems okay – so far – so Bucky keeps pushing. He grunts when he finally breaches Steve’s still too-tight rim, both of them freezing again. Steve’s brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched as well, fingers digging into Bucky’s shoulders hard enough that there’s no way Bucky can pull away from him. His body is locked up tight, he’s shaking again and he’s holding his breath.  
  
“Steve… Baby, lemme pull out. It’s too much…”  
  
“No,” Steve grits out.  
  
“Sweetheart…”  
  
“No,” Steve repeats. Stubborn little fucker. Just like always.  
  
“Then you gotta breathe, darlin’. Relax, lemme in.” Steve takes a few deep, shuddering breaths and thankfully the vice-like grip around Bucky’s cock starts to loosen. “That’s it, doll. Just like that,” Bucky practically coos, letting go of his cock, rubbing his hand – still slick with lube but neither of them seem to care at the moment – over Steve’s hip, up his side.  
  
“Okay,” Steve breathes, his fingers loosening as well, splayed wide across Bucky’s shoulder blades. “Okay, I’m good.”  
  
Bucky once again just barely resists asking if he’s sure. He pushes forward slowly, once again stopping when Steve winces a little. “Steve?”  
  
“Just… God, this slow shit is killin’ me, Buck,” Steve blurts out. “Just go ‘head and do it. All the way, okay?”  
  
“Steve…”  
  
“I’m serious, Bucky,” Steve cuts him off. “Please.”  
  
Bucky sighs but reaches down, grabs Steve’s thigh, lifts his leg a little and pushes forward, fighting through the resistance. They’re both panting by the time he stops, buried as deep inside Steve as possible. The tight, wet heat is exquisite but the bit of pain he can see in Steve’s eyes pulls him back away from the edge. Steve stares up at him, once again taking those deep, shuddering breaths. It seems to take forever but eventually Steve loosens around him, the pain slowly fading from his eyes. He wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist, pulls him close, their chests pressed together. Bucky rests his weight on both arms on either side of Steve’s head, his left hand carding through Steve’s hair. Despite the pain Steve’s cock is still hard between the press of their stomachs, already leaking again.  
  
“You can move,” Steve whispers.  
  
Bucky can’t hold back this time. “You sure?”  
  
Steve – little shit that he is – clenches his inner muscles, making both of them gasp. “’m sure,” he rasps.   
  
Bucky draws his hips back slowly, almost all the way out, then thrusts forward again, the slide smoother, easier this time. He keeps it slow, careful, as he builds up a steady, even rhythm. _Fuck_. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt, almost _too_ good, and he knows he was right, there’s no way he’s going to last long at all.  
  
Steve catches onto his rhythm quickly, hips rolling up to meet him thrust for thrust. He moans, clings to Bucky’s shoulders, stares up at him the entire time, love, awe, want, need, so many emotions swirling in those glittering blue eyes. Bucky changes the angle just barely on his next thrust and Steve’s eyes widen, his cock jerking between them. “Right there,” he pants. “Oh God, Buck. _Right there…_ Don’t stop…”  
  
Like he could stop now even if he wanted to.   
  
He keeps the same angle, obviously hitting Steve’s sweet spot. Steve writhes and arches his back, moaning and mewling, clawing at Bucky’s back. “More,” he breathes. “Need more…”  
  
“What, baby? What d’ya need?”  
  
“Harder, faster.”  
  
Bucky picks up the pace, snapping his hips harder, faster, just as Steve requested. Steve once again easily keeps up with him. But it isn’t long before Steve is once again begging for more. Bucky sits up, grabs Steve’s legs and drapes them over his shoulders, leans forward until Steve is nearly bent in half, his hands braced on the mat as he pounds into Steve, making sure to still keep that same perfect angle.   
  
Steve moans harshly, arms above his head, fingers curled around the edge of the mat. He can’t really thrust up against Bucky in this position but he does his best, clenches his inner muscles to make up the difference. Bucky is so ridiculously close, honestly has no idea how he’s still managing to hold out.  
  
“You close, baby? Gonna come again for me?” Bucky pants, hoping like hell that Steve says yes.  
  
“Almost,” Steve moans. “You?”  
  
“Right behind you, darlin’.”  
  
Bucky shifts his weight completely onto his left hand and reaches between them, wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock. He barely gets in a few strokes before Steve cries out, back and neck arching, his eyes squeezing closed as he comes. His inner muscles clench, flutter around Bucky, push him over the edge a few heartbeats behind Steve. He does his best to work them both through it but mostly it’s just mindless thrusting at this point, not that it seems to really matter.  
  
He has just enough brain power left to gently lower Steve’s legs before collapsing onto his chest, his face pressed into the sweaty curve of Steve’s neck. Steve hums and drops his arms, wraps them around Bucky, keeping him close as they work through the shivery aftershocks together. He loses track of how long he lays there, eyes closed, just enjoying the post-orgasmic bliss, the warmth of Steve all around him. Steve makes a soft, unhappy noise when Bucky’s softened cock slips from him, Bucky kisses his still slightly too fast pulse in silent apology.  
  
After a few more minutes, Bucky forces himself to move. He rolls off of Steve, grabs his shirt and wipes them off as best as he can. He barely gets a chance to throw it back to the floor before Steve is reaching for him. They end up on their sides facing each other, their legs tangled together. Bucky reaches up, palms Steve’s cheek, smiling softly when Steve leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “You okay?” he asks softly.  
  
“Mmm,” Steve hums, a sated smile curling up his lips. Fucked-out is a really good look on him, in Bucky’s opinion. “’m good.”  
  
Bucky leans in, brushes a kiss to Steve’s lips. He can tell Steve is well on his way to sleep and he’s right behind him. But first, “Wake me up before you head out?”  
  
“Of course,” Steve mutters. He’s asleep mere moments later.   
  
Bucky only lasts few more minutes himself, closing his eyes as he pulls Steve closer.  
  
******  
  
“Bucky.”   
  
Bucky wrinkles his nose, turns more toward the sound of Steve’s voice. Something is missing though and it makes him frown. It only takes a few seconds to realize the mat next to him, where Steve should be, is empty.  
  
“Buck. Wake up, love.”  
  
He blinks his eyes open slowly, sees Steve sitting on the mat next to him, completely dressed. At first he’s confused but then it hits him. Steve is leaving this morning.   
  
Bucky sits up, wraps his arms around Steve, buries his face against his shoulder. Steve rubs his back, brushes a kiss to the top of his head. “I gotta go, Buck,” he murmurs after a few minutes.  
  
Bucky wants to hold on, wants to beg him not to go, so afraid that this will be the last time he sees Steve. But he can’t do any of that. He pulls back, gives Steve the best smile he can. Steve’s eyes soften and he leans in, kisses Bucky slow, sweet. Bucky huffs when Steve pulls away. Steve smiles, pushes Bucky’s hair back out of his face. “It’ll just be a few hours, love.”  
  
More like ten, at least, but Bucky doesn’t correct him. “I know.” He brushes a quick kiss to Steve’s lips, tightens his arms around him for a few seconds. “Have a safe flight.”  
  
“Tell me that you know I’m comin’ back,” Steve insists softly, his hand cupping Bucky’s cheek, forcing him to look into Steve’s eyes.  
  
“I know that you’re comin’ back,” Bucky repeats dutifully. He _wants_ to believe it, _so bad_. But they’ve always had shit luck and there are times that Bucky truly believes that they’ll never get a real chance to be together. At least not long term.  
  
Steve smiles sadly, brushes a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “I love you, _so much_ ,” he whispers. “And I’ll see you soon. I promise.”  
  
“I love you, too, doll,” Bucky forces out around the lump in his throat. “See you.”  
  
He doesn’t want to but he forces himself watch Steve get up, glance back at him once before ducking out of the door of their – his – hut.   
  
Bucky works like he usually does during the day but the peace he’s felt the last two weeks is gone. He realizes with painful clarity that he’s not as stable as he’s been trying to convince both Steve and himself he is, that he’s pretty far away from being himself again. With Steve not beside him, the memories come hard and fast, the flashbacks almost physically painful, leaving him lost, angry, confused, and once again so exhausted he really kind of just wants to lay down and give up.  
  
The day drags on, every hour seeming like a day, a week. The closer it gets to nightfall, the more Bucky manages to convince himself that he was right, for whatever reason, Steve isn’t coming back. When the sun finally sets, the world around him as dark as his mood, he finds himself walking down the path toward the lake, nothing but the moon and stars to light the way. It’s a beautiful night, like always, but he can’t see any of it, not like he could before. He sits down against the tree, stares at the lake, the moon shining off the still surface. If he tries real hard, he can picture Steve standing there in the sun, his eyes glittering, his smile soft, loving and just for Bucky. The image fades quickly though, leaving him somehow feeling even more hollow.  
  
He’s so lost in his head, his misery, that he misses the sound of footsteps approaching. He jumps when he feels a big, warm hand on his cheek, looks up and sees Steve kneeling in front of him. For a moment he’s sure that it’s just another memory, an hallucination, his broken heart and head playing tricks on him. Steve smiles, crawls into his lap, both hands holding his face as he looks deep into Bucky’s eyes.  
  
“Told you I’d be back,” Steve murmurs as he leans in and kisses Bucky, slow and sweet and so achingly perfect.  
  
If this is an hallucination, his mind shattering the rest of the way, he’s suddenly very okay with that. It beats the alternative.   
  
  
  


 

  
  
  



End file.
